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bruh-myguy-what · 6 months ago

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Lovestruck

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader Requested by: @baddest-batchers Warnings: Massive fluff, I think I actually cried writing this?, I've not been handling the season finale well because I miss Tech a considerable amount, pining for reader from Tech's perspective, a lot of adorable emotions from our usually pragmatic boy Word Count: 2K Summary: While fixing the Marauder with you, Tech reflects on his feelings and he's completely enamored by you. A/N: I'm not handling Tech's death well. Whether it's his death or his just being CX-2, I don't really care, I miss him so desperately and this fic healed so many parts of my heart even though I actually wept while writing. I love that you requested this, friend! I hope it's exactly what you were looking for (or at least close!) and I absolutely agree, this was indeed a Tech prompt. All of these requests have been so wonderful and I cannot express how much it means that people like my writing enough to send in requests! Thanks guys!

Requests are open if you have anything you'd like to send in!

__________________________________________

It was an ordinary affair for you and Tech to work on the repairs for the Marauder simultaneously. There were consistent restorations that needed to be made and things to be updated, so having another experienced individual helped jog said matters along. Though the clone was hesitant at first, after months of rapport building, he was grateful.

Not only was he finding himself appreciative for the extra set of hands, but Tech discovered that he was quite enjoying your company. You were clever, agreeable, and understanding, along with that you seemed to always find his endless wealth of knowledge pleasant. The accurate way you managed the repairs of his ship, first by managing his hesitancy well and then demonstrating consideration for his methods before ever handling something he cared so much about, really surprised him. Your approach to his usually off-putting demeanor was a welcomed change in his life and the way you subtly encouraged him appeared to warm his heart in a way he hadn't previously encountered.

He'd found that his eyes lingered on you from afar longer than he realized, only noticing that he'd been staring when you'd look over and smile at him sweetly. The light in your eyes, whenever you'd smile at him, twinkled so effortlessly, almost as if there had been stars placed directly behind them solely to enchant him.

It was as if you were another creature entirely, one he'd never analyzed, one he knew nothing about- because everything you did fascinated him. All the ways in which you carried yourself, laughed with his brothers, tended to Omega, your wit, the charm you retained...it all was remarkable to him. He began to notice himself craving your attention. Tech dreamed of you laughing for him, smiling at him, every moment he was awake you invaded his thoughts.

So to have you crouched down beneath the hull of the Marauder, handing him parts and tools for repairs made him impossibly delighted. This was a life he could get used to, for a long time. The ability to bond with you- and only you- in this way for the rest of his short life, he would fight for it, no matter the threat. If this was what life could be for him after he and his brothers no longer needed to fight, he would be far and beyond content. He'd feel whole.

"The spanner now, please," Tech's smooth tone echoed back to him from off the metal hull.

Taking a moment to grab the tool, you placed it squarely in his hand, "Of course." Your voice was sweet as ever to his ears, the sensation of your fingers grazing his gloved palm sending tides of bliss to his heart. How he desired to remove his gloves to truly discern how your hand might feel in his. Odd thought, he knew, though nevertheless one he often had run through his mind. Other equivalent ones situated themselves among his standard reflections; such as how your cheeks might feel cradled in his palm, or how your eyes might sparkle even more at his displays of affection toward you.

These introspective ideas were not ones he had been programmed with, he understood that very well, but then again wasn't that the whole point of him and his brothers? They weren't droids. Even with protocol and planned executions, wasn't the beautiful part of having your own identity the potential for...emotion? Sentiments?

Love?

The brilliant clone pondered these notions for many hours during hyperspace travels, staring endlessly into the streaking atmosphere while everyone else lay in their bunks asleep. Upon his further analysis and pensive state, he conceded that he did, indeed, love you. Even though he expected it to never be possible, for him anyhow, it clearly was. And there it was, staring up at him with stunning eyes and an adorable smile- all wrapped up in one woman who waited for further instruction to aid his work.

"Whatcha smiling at, silly?" A giggle brought him out of his reverie and he cleared his throat, handing the spanner back to you while muttering a quick 'my apologies'. "It's no big deal, you know I don't mind," another soft chuckle at his sudden behavior change. "Just curious what has you in such a good mood lately. You never smile this much- not that I'm complaining, of course. You look happy and I like that, it suits you." The smile he watched spread across your lips brightened your eyes so preciously that Tech felt as if his heart were going to lock up. You were absolutely breathtaking in the setting sunlight, the warm glow radiating your beauty.

It wasn't too long after your comment that he acknowledged he'd been staring once again. Tech blinked a few times, regaining his composure- sure to remember the planet's rotation cycle so he could bring you out into the setting sun one more time before leaving so he could truly memorize the way you looked in such a spectacular site. "I suppose it would be an alarming circumstance to see my sudden change in attitude if you are accustomed to my rather pragmatic and steadfast manner." He spoke slowly, trying to gauge his words carefully, looking back up at the repairs he was currently working on.

To say he was usually practical was an understatement and even he knew that, but he continued nevertheless- "Screwdriver, please."

A quick hum in reply from you and the tool was now in his hand, his heart buzzing at your lingering touch, making certain he had hold of the screwdriver before pulling away. "Though," Tech found himself speaking before he realized, hesitating after the word left his mouth.

Should he continue? Would you be uneasy at any admission of his affection, or even just simple favor, toward you?

He found himself suddenly apprehensive at the possibility that he could ruin the favorable conditions he'd found for himself with you. But with your reassuring voice, you spoke his worrying thoughts away, "though, what? Got too many thoughts running around that extraordinary mind of yours to just pick one?" The pleasantness in your prodding had a warm smile of his own spreading across his lips now while he worked against a stubborn bolt.

"Only a few at this very moment, so it would appear, mesh'la." Tech's reply was soft, soft enough that he thought only he'd heard himself until you stood beside him now. He glanced to see your head tilted with ever lovely, inquisitive eyes prompting him to continue his outspoken thought. Realigning his eyes to the bolt, Tech licked his lips anxiously, "Ah, I must have spoken aloud without realizing." He clarified softly, a burning sensation rising to his cheeks.

"Well now you gotta continue," you teased with a smile, "It's not every day that your genius mind only has a few thoughts in it to speak of."

Tech knew he was skating near a precarious edge, but the more you gazed at him expectantly, the less he cared and only desired for you to continue your total obliteration of his typical sensible behaviors. Taking a deep breath, the enhanced clone steadied himself before expressing, "At present, I have found that my foremost thoughts are exclusively about you. During the maturing of our relationship these last few months, it would seem that less and less of my thoughts are as constructive as they had been prior to our closeness, as troubling as that may sound." At your silence, Tech chanced lowering his arms to stand before you unimpeded by work, attention entirely yours.

The rise of your brows and the slight part in your lips made his heart thud painfully against his chest. Though, he noticed the sparkle in your eyes hadn't dissipated, perhaps he wasn't ruining anything as he thought he had been. "I am mindful that it may come across as peculiar, or eccentric, for me to have said that," Tech began cautiously, calculating your evolving expression. "Nevertheless, it is the truth. I...find you to be the most compelling woman that I have personally had the fortune of knowing. You are quite literally the only part of my life that I find myself frequently enchanted by." As he spoke, Tech found it easier to alleviate himself of the mountain of praises he'd been repeatedly considering when in your presence. He discovered he could continue voicing your worth, just as he could gaze at your beautiful face for an indefinable amount of time if only you'd allow him.

In the face of your silence, Tech cleared his throat once again to calm himself of his growing concern. "Though I'm aware of my capacity to express thoughts without stopping, I must say that your added input on this matter would prevent the inclination of my elevating heart rate."

"Tech..." The way his name left your lips did the contrary of what he had just requested, scrambling his heart rate instead. Tenderness touched the curve of your lips as you stepped forward close to him, directly into the space he usually reserved for only himself until he saw how much more exquisite you were when he had the opportunity to look down at you. This close he could see every mark, every small scar, the way the color of your eyes shifted as they glanced back and forth around his face.

"Stars," he breathed, "you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, mesh'la..." Tech muttered to himself in wonderment. As if no barrier had ever existed between you, Tech reached out to caress your face, marveling at how you reacted by pressing your cheek further into his touch. "If you were to provide me the honor of showing you my devotion, I would be certain to surpass any expectations you may put forth." Spellbound by the intimacy he'd found himself in with you, Tech longed for more. He yearned to feel the softness of your cheek on his skin, not through his filthy gloves. The way you deserved to be admired was wholly and profoundly, without any impediments. As his eyes danced between yours and the way your smile began to fade, Tech brushed his thumb along your cheek, cursing his GAR regulation blacks. You'd hardly said a word other than the sweet whisper of his name before you approached him, and even if this instance was all he'd ever receive from you, he'd relive the memory a hundred times over. Though he worried he'd said too much again.

Or maybe you were as entranced as he was, presently. "My dear, I don't mean to ruin this moment, however, I-" and before he could finish speaking you'd surged upward toward him, pressing your lips against his.

Astonishment rushed through the normally sharp clone as he felt the weight of your body pressed against his chest plate. After only a moment, though, Tech reacted- refusing to squander his opportunity to kiss you as he had dreamt many times over.

Wrapping his arms around your smaller figure, one hand came to rest between your shoulders and the other cradled your head affectionately, holding you as close as he could possibly have you. The plush of your lips brushed so flawlessly against his as he admired the softness they possessed. Tech knew upon impact that he would never tire of this, of the ability to hold you as he was, nor his newfound gift to kiss you.

You pulled away all too soon for his liking, the sigh escaping his lips sounding as pathetic to him as he was sure it sounded to you. Your smile was even more gorgeous than he'd seen it yet, though he was sure it was due to the recent discovery of just how incredible your smile tasted against his lips. Tech debated whether he should move at all for fear of you slipping away even sooner, but relented to adjust his goggles, matching your smile. "I believe that is a sufficient response to my yet posed question."

With yet another unpredictable act, you cuddled closer into his space, folding your arms in between your chest and his, and tucked your face into his neck. "I'll be happy to answer any others you may have with the same reply, whenever you need, handsome." You replied with a soft laugh.

Encompassing you once again within his embrace, Tech felt his cheeks warming, noting how the sun had disappeared beneath the horizon and he knew couldn't blame that for his reddened face. His breathy chuckle rumbled against his chest plate, "I shall keep that at the forefront of my thoughts."

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hyakinthou-naos · 5 months ago

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Hey, hope this is ok. I need some reassurance.

I've never felt a God's presence (except a vague warmth/peace when meditating about them sometimes I guess), much less talked directly to them (as in hearing them answer) and with so many people, esp on tiktok and here, talking like they have a private relationship with the Gods, a close friendship, even dating I just... I feel lesser I guess? Like so many people were chosen but not me and that must be a problem on my part. Like the Gods prefer everyone else over me. Like I'm not doing enough, even though I'm doing what I manage to do, given my limitations. I'm jealous of people who do communicate directly to the Gods. Part of me doubts them but part wants to believe them because it would be so shitty to lie about something like this and I don't want to believe these people are shitty. I don't believe non harmful hallucinations are all that common either, which would be the other explanation.

From what I understand you don't have this kind of direct communication either and I wanted to ask - how do you prevent yourself from feeling bad seeing all these people who (claim they) do?

I'm struggling here :( It's already hard for me to keep a consistent practice because of executive dysfunction and chronic illness and other stuff and this makes it harder. Feeling like I'll never be at everyone else's level of connection makes it harder.

Sorry for the vent-ish ask. You don't need to answer but I'm already glad if you read. Thank you.

Dear Anon,

Thank you for your ask, I am so sorry to hear that you are struggling. I want to tell you right off the bat that you are not lesser than any other worshipper - you are not less preferable to The Gods - and you should not feel any guilt around your spiritual/religious experiences. I would like to say the following to you, but also to the wider HelPol/Pagan community:

PLEASE Do Not Trust Spiritual Influencers on TikTok.

I cannot claim to know the legitimacy or the intentions/motivations behind every individuals actions regarding divine experiences, but I can say with confidence that most of the spiritual content on TikTok is dripping with lies and exaggerations.

Now, as someone with a mental health degree (I don't talk about my education often but I do have a bachelor's in Social Work and a minor in Psychology) I can also say with confidence that just because someone is lying doesn't mean they're necessarily a "bad person" but you don't have to be a "bad person" to have bad motivations.

Bad Motivations Can Include:

Lying for Financial Gain: This could be selling a product, selling a service, or trying to monetize on being an "influencer".

Lying for Attention: Many people do not have supportive friends, families, or communities - so as a maladaptive coping mechanism they will lie to get the attention they are lacking in their personal life.

Lying for Prestige: Some people don't feel important in their own lives, so they will lie so that other people will think that they are important.

Lying for Fun: In the age of the internet, the ability to make others believe something you know to be false can give someone an adrenaline or a dopamine rush. This is why "trolling" is still so popular.

And, not a "motivation", but still an explanation of why someone might "lie":

Mental Health Concerns: This could be a severe mental illness, a delusion, a hallucination, or conditioning from trauma.

People are weird and wonderful and diverse - and that diversity includes people who will lie (consciously or not) for a variety of reasons.

I speak about this openly as you mentioned, but I do not - nor have I ever - had any direct communication from any entity, deity, or spirit. Everything I know about my Gods (outside of myth, tradition, and history) I have learned through divination, ritual, and intuition.

Answering how I prevent myself from feeling bad when I see so many people "experiencing" something I can't - is a little bit complicated.

When I began my journey into paganism 11 years ago, TikTok didn't exist - Instagram was only 2 years old - and Tumblr had been around for a little under 5 years. My early knowledge came, mostly, from books. I wasn't comparing my experiences to those of others - because the only "others" I could compare myself to were limited to one high-school friend and the authors of the books I read. That kind of experience as a modern pagan doesn't really exist anymore because of how much the world has changed, but I wish it did. So, by the time I got to where I am now, the idea of comparing myself to others was so foreign. And as someone who grew up with the early internet - I learned very quickly that very little online is 100% real and truthful.

If you want to connect with your deities in an honest way that also feels real - you might enjoy trying one of the following (some of these might sound silly and/or childish - but if you truly want to grow as a pagan, you must throw away the idea that childish = bad):

Go outside at night and spin, put your arms out wide and spin and spin until you're dizzy (but not sick). Then lie down on the ground and close your eyes. That whirring sensation? That unreality of gravity? That is the Earth. That is Gaia. That is Demeter.

Listen to the rainfall on a stormy night. Sit somewhere you can hear the drops hitting the ground. Look and wait for a flash of lighting. The following thunder, that sound that you can feel in your bones that makes you jump, That is Zeus.

Write a letter to a friend, or to a loved one, or even to yourself in the future. Pay attention to how emotions become thoughts, thoughts become words, and words become writing. Communication - Language - Thought. That is Hermes.

I could go on- but at the end of the day, people are going to tell you that The Gods are "otherworldly"; but they're wrong. The Gods are of this world - The Gods are this world.

I hope that some of this has helped?

Eirene, peace and farewell,

- Aön

#helpol #hellenic polytheism #textpost #ask #asks #asks answered

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thezombieprostitute · 10 months ago

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Dream Come True - Part 4

Summary: The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel by running legitimate businesses. One such business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.

A/N: Reader is plus sized, femme. No other descriptors used.

Word Count: ~2000. I think this is my longest chapter.

Warnings: Bullying, Fat shaming, Insecure reader, Violence mentioned and referenced but not written. Please let me know if I missed any!

Series Masterlist

Part 3 -- Part 5

It figured. You had an interview in an hour and now Curtis had time to talk to you. You could probably catch a cab and still arrive on time, so long as you kept this conversation short.

As soon as he walked into the cyber cafe (your second home at this point) you stood up and got his attention. He looked a little surprised to see you standing but you remembered every time he's seen you so far it was in a hospital bed. It's been a few weeks and your leg was still stiff but you were diligent in your physical therapy and healing well.

He walked over to you, accompanied by someone you didn't recognize. As soon as he got close enough you directed him to the office in the back, "Jefferson gave me permission to use his office for this discussion." Curtis nodded and the three of you went into the room, closing the door behind you.

"Hello," you reach a hand towards the stranger, "I'm Y/N. I don't think we've been introduced."

"Mace," he shakes your hand with a smile. "We've never met but I have heard a lot about you."

"It's nice to meet you," you return the smile. Looking at Curtis you continue, "we need to talk about either my schedule or Hal's, Sir."

Curtis gestures to the chairs and you all take a seat.

You start, "I understand that there are a lot of things you can't account for in your scheduling but Hal has had to cancel every session I've tried to have with him. And if I'm not tutoring, I'm not getting paid."

"We can put you on retainer," Curtis started.

You interrupted him with a scoff. "I'm not getting paid to do nothing, Sir. What's more, this is hurting Hal. He wants to learn but your chaotic scheduling is preventing that. Do you know how discouraging that can be? To finally have a resource but never be allowed to use it?"

Curtis sighs and looks at Mace, "do you think we can figure out a consistent time?"

"It'll take some work," he replies. "And, as the lady points out, there are things we can't plan for. But it should be possible."

Curtis looks at you, questioningly and you nod your head, "thank you both. This has been very frustrating for me and Hal so I really appreciate it."

"Eh," Mace replies, "what's a little more work?"

"Well I don't mean to cut into your time off with this, Sirs," your tone apologetic.

"We don't do time off," Curtis cuts in.

"What? Why not," you demand. "Time off is important for physical and mental health."

"We have to show our people that we're not asking them to do anything we wouldn't do ourselves," Curtis replied calmly.

"That's bullshit," you exclaim. "No wonder everyone's schedules are so hectic! You're all too exhausted and worn out to think straight!"

"We've been doing this for years," Curtis angrily interjects. "It's clearly been working."

"If you, Hal and Jake are any indication it's only working because of an ungodly amount of caffeine and luck," you retort. "You either need to get some more people or start scheduling R&R for you and your employees, Sir."

You're so focused on Curtis that you don't see Mace smiling, clearly trying not to laugh. Curtis's eyes soften a bit and he nods in concession.

"Thank you." You check your watch, "now if you'll excuse me, I have an interview to get to."

"What?" Curtis looked shocked. You almost think you saw some hurt in his eyes.

"My work for you will always get highest priority, Sir," you assure. "But it's very part-time work, that you’ve been unintentionally sabotaging and keeping very part-time. And that overly generous back pay won't last forever. So I'm looking at getting another income."

"Do you need a ride to the interview," Mace offers.

"No, but thank you," you reply. "The Wilford & Gilliam Trust building isn't too far and I can afford a cab."

Both men froze at your words as you got up and tried to leave. Curtis quickly blocked your access to the door and nearly growled, "you're not going to that interview."

"Excuse you?" Your eyes widen in surprise. "I've already told you that my work for you will get top priority and that I need the income, Sir. Now please move. I don't want to be late."

"You're not working for Wilford & Gilliam," Curtis barked. "You need another income? Fine. I'll find you another job. But you're not working for them."

"It's just a part-time, data entry kind of job," you retort. "And it's consistent, reliable work."

"They're horrible people who fund even worse people," Curtis scowled. "I know you like your data to back up these kinds of things but I can't tell you how I know."

You scan Curtis's face, take aback at the intensity of his conviction. There is no room for doubt that he believes in what he's saying. "Okay, Sir," you concede. "You've yet to do wrong by me so I'll trust you. I will still look for a second job, in case you can't find me one, but it will not be with them."

Satisfied with your answer Curtis let's you leave. As soon as you're out the office door he sees the grin on Mace's face. He gives him a questioning look but before Mace can say anything they hear you exclaim, "Mr. Drysdale?!"

Both men rush out to the main cafe and see Ransom looking uncharacteristically repentant.

"Y/N," Ransom gulped, "come back to work for me. Please."

"No," you responded before trying to walk around him.

Ransom blocks your path, "please! I...I made a mistake and I would like to make it up to you."

"No," you repeat, patience wearing thin.

"I'll double your pay, please!"

"Hire someone else!"

"I'VE TRIED," he shouts. "Their work doesn't get me through writer's block like yours did. Their research is all dry facts that are hard to absorb. You wrote in such a way that it was easy for me to figure out how to write it into the story. So PLEASE come back to work for me!"

"Do you know why I requested remote work, Mr. Drysdale?" He shakes his head, not used to the iciness in your voice. "I heard you complaining about me to your grandfather, the one who made you hire me. You never had a problem with my work but you still insisted he let you fire me so you could get a pretty assistant. One who was, to use your words, preferably fresh out of college. Because how could you be expected to write when you had to look at ugly, fat ass instead of a beautiful muse?"

Ransom at least had the decency to look ashamed but you didn't relent.

"So I worked remotely, making sure you wouldn't have to see me and I wouldn't have to put up with your looks of disgust. And then, when I got hurt, you cut me loose. So, no, Mr. Drysdale, I will not be working for you ever again. I prefer a reliable employer who appreciates my work."

You try to walk past him but he puts an arm out to stop you. Before you can react to the arm, Curtis has pulled Ransom away, gripping him by the front of his sweater. You don't want to cry in front of everyone so you keep walking, set on going home.

As soon as you're out the door Curtis snarls, "you do not treat any of my employees like that." Before Ransom can reply Curtis punches him in the face and he falls to the floor. Curtis glances at Mace who responds with a nod, promising he'll see to the witnesses, before he lets himself run after you.

Thankfully it was an off time of day and the sidewalks were mostly empty. He spotted you right away and quickly went after you. He caught up to you but the tears in your eyes made him stop in his tracks.

“Y/N,” he asked. “You gonna be okay?”

“Eventually, Sir,” you reply, still walking. “He’s not the first asshole I’ve had to deal with and he won’t be the last.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that. I should’ve stepped in sooner.”

“I’m glad you didn’t, actually. He needs to know I’m serious and that I’m strong enough to not need him. If you had stepped in before I was done talking, he’d think he could still get to me by going around you. This way I got to be the one shutting him out, giving him no room to think he could worm around.”

“That’s fair. I was incredibly impressed with how you handled him.”

“Like I said, not the first asshole to put my looks ahead of my worth.”

“Your prettiness is definitely a bonus to your good work,” he says before he can stop himself.

You stop and look at him, an angry expression and fresh tears on your face. “Don’t, Sir. Just don’t. I’m not interested in your pity.”

“I’m not…” Curtis stops himself. He’s clearly not saying the right things and doesn’t want to hurt you further. “I’m sorry.”

You nod and continue the trek to your apartment. He silently accompanies you. You’re hurt and he can’t fix it. If anything, he’d likely just make it worse. He never wanted to see tears in your eyes but being the cause of a fresh wave of them made him hurt in ways he never knew he could.

“This is my building, Sir,” you interrupt his thoughts. “Thank you for walking me home and making sure I’m okay.” He nods, still afraid to say or do anything else, and you walk into your building, leaving him on the sidewalk. Part of him wants to follow after but he’s not sure he’d be able to actually do anything. Best if he just gets lost in his work. That’s always helped him before.

As he turns to walk back to the cybercafe, he sees Mace in their work van, parked on the curb. He moves into the passenger seat and sighs. As Mace drives away, Curtis says, “okay, we’ve gotta rework a few schedules.”

Mace chuckles, “if I’d known all it would take to get you to relent was a pretty face with a fiery spirit-”

“Don’t,” Curtis interrupts.

“I’m just saying,” Mace bantered. “I’ve been telling you for a long while now that we need to give the guys a better work environment or they’ll burnout and make stupid mistakes. She makes one comment about how it affects her and you’re singing a different tune.”

“That’s not what happened.”

“I was there, Curtis. I saw it all happen.”

Curtis remained silent.

“I can’t say I blame you, though. She’s got some serious-”

“ENOUGH,” Curtis ordered. “Let’s just get to thinking about some more work for her.”

Mace took a calculating look at Curtis, “how about we have work with Colin and Mickey? They could use someone responsible to act as their manager. We could get better info from their VIP section if at least one person was sober. And you know they’d make her feel…appreciated.”

“No,” Curtis barked. “They’re idiots who would get her in trouble. I also don’t want her anywhere near the drug monitoring operations. If one of Rumlow’s goons pushes something on her…”

“Okay,” Mace interrupted. “How about Lee or Barber? She’d be pretty safe with them.”

“No. She’s too curious. Lee and Barber have information about us and I don’t want her to go snooping and suddenly be liable for our mistakes.”

“You’re intent on keeping her in the dark? She’s clearly smart enough to know there’s more to all of what we do.”

“But she has no specifics. No details. She can still claim ignorance and that’s how I want it.”

“Not sure how plausible an idea that’s gonna be. Especially when you two start dating.” Mace smiles a little when he hears Curtis’s warning grunt.

“That’s not going to happen,” Curtis vows. “We’ll figure out something.”

“Whatever you say, Boss.”

Part 3 -- Part 5

Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would.

@dontbescaredtosingalong

@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@texmexdarling

@veltana

@winter-soldier-101

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

#Curtis Everett x plus size!reader #curtis everett x reader #mob!curtis everett #mafia!curtis everett #Curtis Everett x female!reader

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alexiswritingstuff · 1 year ago

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Just wanted to let you know that I've been binge reading all of your writings and I love them so much, keep up the good work! :)

I know you might have a lot of Gus requests, so it's okay if you put this one on the back burner for a bit. But I read the "Not So Scary After All" work and I was wondering if you could write a sort of sequel to it?

Maybe Jesse keeps trying to tell GN reader how obvious it is that he likes them. How he's seen him try not to smile when talking to reader, the softer tone of voice, things like that.

Reader obviously doesn't believe him and thinks that Gus is just being nice to his employees, especially the ones that are responsible for the cooks.

Anyways, after a few days of Jesse pestering the reader about it something happens to make them realize he might be right. I was thinking maybe they would make another mistake with the cook and Walter is there to see it. Maybe he gets mad, a little TOO mad, and Gus walks in 🤭 Or anything else works too! I just love the premise of a protective Gus that doesn't like to show how protective he actually is

First of all, thank you for the comment about my writings, I'm glad you have enjoyed them so far! Initially I didn't think about writing a part two, so I hope this does it justice, as well as that I hope it was what you were looking for!

Thank you for sending this in!

Not so scary after all. 2/2

Pairing: Gustavo x gender neutral reader.

Other appearances: Jesse Pinkman, Walter White.

Warnings: arguing, walter being a douche.

also be aware of spelling mistakes, or other errors. I do read these over but I can tend to miss stuff either way!

A/N: my brain has been fixated on other characters recently, so if these guys seem ooc then that may be why. It's hard to write scenes where gustavo is interested in another person because we barely get to see that in either show, so I also hope my portrayal of him just generally feels correct.

I hope you enjoy!

more Gustavo fics.

Taglist- @sukunamybeloved - @viviennemuerte - @miwagila - @marksassybanana

previous part.

It never mattered how many times you had gone through the same routine. Surprisingly, considering your line of work, waking up in the morning was always the most jarring part.

You could’ve had a great nights sleep, not woken up at any point, had no distractions or noisy neighbours. Yet the second you were in that car to get to the laundromat, it was like you had to force your eyes to stay open.

Which was apparently the same for Jesse too as there was a series of mumbles and grumbles that would fill the car every few seconds.

Each time you spared a glance to the passenger seat he would be leant further and further into window, his head bobbing whenever there was a difference in ground level or direction of the wheels.

It had you amused, but also a little concerned, “Did you wake up too early, or too late?”

Seeking no comfort from the hardness of the glass, and after his temple ended up smacking right into it, Jesse got himself to sit upright in a speed that closely resembled one of those stairlifts.

He groaned, having to make consistent attempts to keep his body from just slumping all together, “Both?” His hands raised to his head, the sides of his fingers beginning to rub at his eyes as if it would rid them of their tiredness.

In all honesty, outside of the cooking sessions and other shenanigans you found yourself in, you and Jesse never really... hung out. There would be times where you had lunch together, or had to show up to his house if there was something to drop off.

But that was mostly it.

And there wasn’t exactly a reason as to why. You had absolutely nothing against Pinkman, it was like the opposite. The more you spent time with him, the more you felt like some kind of guardian watching over some kid. Even if he also was an adult.

“You had breakfast, though, right?” Your gaze was trained on the lane ahead despite your ongoing conversation.

You had just turned onto a state road, meaning that, regardless of it being early in the morning, people were up and about. Trying to get to their jobs.

It always made it seem busier than it was.

At first, in response to your question, Jesse simply emitted another mumble of something. He was thinking, the intensity in which he rubbed at his eyes increasing for a moment, and then his hands dropped. “Oh,”

“Shit, I don’t... I don’t know.”

You supressed the urge to sigh. It had already happened a few times. Depending on what he did the night before, there would be some mornings where his mind was rattled enough that he would almost forget where he even was, so.

You came prepared.

“Well, I guess luck is on your side today.” you commented, flexing your fingers against the grips of the steering wheel, “There should be a sandwich or something in the back.”

By now Jesse’s head was leaning into the headrest, definitely having the same problem of trying to keep his eyes open like you did. The heat outside probably wasn’t a helpful factor either. “Seriously?”

You didn’t want to take your attention off of the road. The cars in front were starting to slow, and you needed to keep note of the distance from the ones at the back. “Check.” you told him, adjusting the rear view mirror for better visibility.

Jesse sort of rolled his head to the side after a moment, his chin almost knocking into the bone of his shoulder as his gaze cast onto the few items that were in the back seats.

He lazily blinked for a good few seconds, his eyes trying to adjust to the redirection of a sunlight beam. And then he saw it. Right in the middle.

A brown bag.

“No way.”

The next move he made was so fast that the seatbelt strapped around him had immediately stalled against his body, attempting to keep him in place at the assumption of sudden danger.

But that wasn’t enough to stop him at all.

He pushed against it once, then twice, and then one more time before simply manoeuvring himself around the belt so that the top half would basically be protecting the car seat instead of him.

When Jesse leaned himself between your seat and his, it was so much harder to keep your attention on the road. He was reaching out, arm extended as far as it could go and waving almost madly, until eventually, he grabbed the bag.

Jesse practically had to shove himself backwards to sit upright again, but soon he was able to resume his previous position with a big sigh of relief. Your head could only shake.

Now, there was this sound a rustling paper that filled the entire car as you moved onto the accompanying lane. Something that was definitely not supporting your concentration. “Damn.”

His voice was muffled, the noises coming out of his mouth barely even sounding like a word which in turn made you send him a look.

He had finally gotten to the sandwich. “You make this?”

“Nah, I had too many errands to run.” you informed with a slight sigh, finally beginning to let yourself relax in your seat, “Would’ve done it if I had the time, but I think that is better anyway.”

Jesse didn’t even have to speak for you to know his response. He had taken another bite, nodding his head just slightly in proper approval. If his eyes were closed it would look like he was in pure bliss.

After relentlessly chewing for a hot minute, he attempted to swallow it down, “I didn’t-- I didn’t take you as an early riser.” Yet his voice was still almost unintelligible.

“Well, believe it or not, other people are in fact active in the mornings.” you pointed out, slightly leaning to the side for further emphasis on who the comment was aimed at in a way that had Jesse rolling his eyes.

You swear you saw a clump of crumbs fly from his mouth when he next spoke, “Yeah, yeah-- You sure your too many errands wasn’t just you making sure that you looked good for a certain Fring?”

Your head snapped in his direction in a way that had looking back to the road immediately after, and probably almost gave you whiplash. But you saw it either way.

That damn grin had taken over his lips.

Again.

“Please don’t do this right now.”

Jesse had to clear his throat to stop himself from almost choking, “Aw come on, man, it’s-- There’s nothing to be ashamed of if you did.” Your head shook like it had done before, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

It was always so stupid to you how the indirect mention of someone made your body react the way it did. You were only trying to get to work, yet your heart was acting as if you had just gone for a run.

“But I do.” The look you sent Jesse almost had him wanting to put his hands up if he wasn’t so focused on his sandwich, “What? I do-- Look, I may not have that much experience, or whatever, but there is totally something going on.”

“Definitely on his end at least.” He moved the sandwich around in his hands, trying to locate the best part to bite as he had finally swallowed the last one, “I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve seen him give you the look.”

Your eyebrows furrowed within seconds, “The... The what now?” You tried to turn in his direction for confirmation, but he seemed a bit too busy to notice your movement.

Due to a junction being up ahead, your foot had moved onto the foot break, watching the lights fully change the closer you drew.

“The look.” Jesse finally repeated, his mouth full all over again in a way that needed real concentration to understand the words coming out of it, “Yeah, he gives you the look, like, all the time.”

Soon, the car in front of you had fully stopped, and then so did yours as you put it into first gear, keeping your feet on the first two pedals.

The moment the car had stopped moving, you turned to Jesse within seconds, eyebrows furrowed more than they had ever been. “What is the look?”

Pinkman gave you a simple glance at first, thinking that you were just messing around as he kept munching away... But no matter how much time went by, you didn't move. Still watching him.

His chewing slowed when his head turned back in your direction. He just blinked for a moment. “You don’t know... You don’t know what the look is?”

Your chin lowered, your eyelids slightly doing the same, “Does it sound like I know what it is?”

“Okay, but... how?” Despite Jesse’s previous complete interest in his sandwich, it lowered with his hands to his lap. There was utter confusion written all over his face while he remained smacking away. “How do you not-- How old are you?”

Your attention went to the road ahead all over again, the back of your head sinking into the headrest as a huff left your lips, “Older than you.” you pointed out, trying to sound more authoritative, but that just seemed to spark an already lit flame.

“Then how do you not see it, huh? I mean, even I can tell that it’s pretty obvious-- And not just because of the look either,” Jesse fully twisted in his seat so that he faced you, “He like... He wants to actually, like, talk to you, and shit-- I’ve seen him smile-- genuinely smile at you, okay?"

“Now, if he was doing it to me? I would... Man, I would be terrified-- But it’s you, it’s... different.” You were trying so hard not to shake your head again, but Jesse’s voice practically being right in your right ear was making it a lot more difficult. “It’s something else--”

“It’s not...” You regripped the steering wheel, “You do realise we’re talking Gustavo Fring, right?” Your head attempted to turn back to Jesse, though your eyes were trying to keep the attention on the road as one of the final vehicles seemed to cross through the junction.

“Exactly!” Jesse practically threw his arms up, almost losing his grasp on the sandwich in the process, “You should be caring about this more than you do.”

Your head shook as your gaze fully went back to the road, your foot readying to release the clutch while your fingers tapped against the steering wheel in anticipation.

You were trying to find something to zone in on, something to distract yourself from the kid sitting in your passenger seat as he was still eagerly trying to get you to see the things the way he did. But you weren’t giving it to him.

“Fine then.” Jesse reached behind him, grabbing the top half of the seatbelt, pulling it until it was in front of him again, before he ducked himself beneath.

“But I’m telling you, Y/n.” It was back, slinging diagonally across his torso by the time he was seated properly, and also by the time the lights had finally turned green.

“You’ll see.”

There was something about this day that was starting to feel a little familiar.

You and Jesse had arrived ages ago. You had gone down the windy red stairs, did the whole thing of taking off unnecessary clothing so that you wouldn’t completely boil in the obnoxiously yellow protective suit you would put on next.

And at first, once you were all geared up, the two of you stood in front of the machines. Your heads were raised, eyes cast up to the walkway above as you awaited the arrival of your usual partner at their usual time...

But the door never opened.

There was no proper estimate for how long the two of you just stayed waiting as you had set your watch to the side, and the clock was on the other side of the room, however, there was one thing you knew for sure. Someone was late.

Eventually, the two of you were trying to compensate, finding something useful to do while giving the benefit of the doubt that maybe it was just tough traffic or something going on that made them lose track of time.

Though, the ability to sympathise got smaller and smaller the more minutes began to turn into full on hours.

You found yourself at your usual table with your hand supporting the weight of your head, attempting to occupy your mind by looking over the paperwork from passed cooks. A habit that you only recently developed.

“Dude,” you heard somewhere to your side before there was an exasperated sigh, and a quick creaking of a chair, “What the hell is taking him so long?”

Earlier, Jesse had taken one of the other wheeled chairs from the table connected to yours and had rolled somewhere, enough so that you could only see him from the corner of your eye.

His body was slumped back, the seat beneath him creaking with every move that he made. And considering that he didn’t have anything to do, that was like every. Single. Second.

He had tried out the difference created when he would shift his weight, tested what it would feel like to have his legs hanging over the left side of the chair and then the right, he had pushed his feet onto the floor to roll himself backwards and forwards against the smooth tiles.

And now, as apparently none of that had seemed to have settle his mind, Jesse had resorted to zipping and unzipping the protective suit he was so ready to take off by now. Over, and over... And over again. “Okay,”

“That’s it.”

The pencil held in your gasp was cast to the side of the notepad, you were barely looking at this point, before your hands moved to the edge of the table so that you could push against it enough that your chair started to roll.

You stood up, winding round the seat that was still on the move as you began to walk towards one of the pathways between the machines. Jesse fully planted his feet on the ground, “Yo, Y/n, where are you going?”

Your fingers grasped onto the zip of your suit and you yanked it down as far as you could without having to bend for the rest, beginning to pulling your arms out one after the other moments after.

You moved round that damn settling tank and soon ended up at the wall where you would keep or hang up your loose items. “I...” you began, your voice becoming strained as you bent down to free your feet of those big welly boots, “am going to find out what the hell is going on.”

The squeak of a chair echoed somewhere to the back of the room. “Well, don’t-- Don’t leave me in here by myself.”

Finally, after one last tussle, your, once worn, protective suit was now sprawled on the ground beside the clothing rack. You moved to your usual shoes, putting either feet in their respective ware before tying the laces to make sure they wouldn’t fall off.

Before Jesse could even appear by your side to complete the same process, you were on the move once again, directing towards those windy red stairs that always made you feel like you were going to fall up and/or down them.

“Y/n, wait, dude, wait-- Just give me a minute.” You could hear the hurried rustling of plastic suit echoing through the steps you took on the metal staircase.

Eventually, when your movements had allowed you to arrive at the cat walk, you found yourself complying to Jesse’s words... While the man himself was still trying, and failing, to get the suit off.

It gave you a moment to catch a breath you hadn’t been able to take all day. You were stood high, looking down at the problems below, and not drowning neck deep in it like you usually did.

A deep breath sucked into your nostrils as you let your eyes fall closed, the air of the lab starting to cool the warmth that had festered across your skin--

A sharp whistle squealed through from your left before it bounced around each wall one after the other.

Your eyes had snapped open as soon as the sound appeared, but it wasn’t until your head had started to turn that your brain realised what it had come from.

It was the door.

Your body twisted in the direction of the man who was almost stumbling across the cat walk, a series of huffs and puffs spluttering from his mouth that would have you worrying any other day.

But as of now, all you did was cross your arms over your chest.

“Yo, Mr. White! What the hell took you so long, dude?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he began through a slight wheeze that ended with him doing this horrendous cough. And once he was about three steps in front of you, he stilled his apparently over exhausted body, using a hand to shift his weight onto the railing, “There was... car trouble, and stuff with the kids, you-- you know kids.”

“You would think, maybe, after the first one that it was going to get easier and then...”

In the midst of Mr. White stabilising himself, his head had turned to the right in at attempt to locate Jesse, which wasn’t hard to do considering the fact that he was still taking off that damn suit, to further emphasis his... guilt?

But instead, after he did a sort of double take, he began to slowly face you once again, “Why aren’t any of the machines on, why... Why aren’t you wearing your suit?”

“We were waiting for you. I was just about to try and find at least someone to tell us where you were.”

“Wait... Wait a minute,” Mr. White started, holding his hands up while he took a step closer. “You didn’t start?” His chin slightly lowered in a way that made his eyes peer at you over his glasses.

“No?” you stated simply, your eyebrows furrowing at the sudden change to his demeanour, “After last time... We didn’t think you wanted us to do it by ourselves.”

“But that was-- That was last time, Y/n.” With every word that the man spoke, his hands rose higher and higher until they were inches away from touching his face, “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?”

The urge to scoff was stronger than ever, and you had to hold it back more than you ever had in your life, “I think I should be asking you that question.”

The man before you began shaking his head in a way that was almost not visible. “I told you... I was having problems with my car.” For a moment his expression remained the way it was, a visible attempt at holding back what you were guessing was anger.

But then it failed.

“I have... a family to take care of...” His hands dropped to his sides. When he next spoke the corners of his mouth slightly downturned like there was utter distaste for the words coming out of his mouth, “They are not going to be put at expense because, again, you weren’t able to do a simple job.”

Regardless of how loud it usually was when someone walked up the windy stairs, right now, as Jesse began to do just that, it was barely audible to your ears. The sound fading more and more the longer you stared at the man before you. “Guys, can we just--”

“I am doing my job just fine, Mr. White.” you started up with this lack of emotion to your voice, trying to make it as clear as possible that you wanted to get this over and done with, “We just didn’t want to do another batch all by ourselves, simply, because you couldn’t be bothered to show up.” Though it seemed your mouth had other plans.

There was something that almost satisfactory when you saw a side of his face twitch. But soon, it was one that ended with this sort of smile curling at his lips, his eyebrows raising more than you had ever seen in your time working with him. “Oh.”

“So, you want me to apologise for making a singular mistake? Is that it?” He took yet another step towards you, “You know what, how about we count how many times you have made-- No, caused, a mistake, hmm?”

You couldn’t count the amount of voices that were telling you to take a step back, to move away the closer he got to stand directly in front of you, “But that wasn’t only my fault-- There’s a big difference between actually trying and just not showing up.”

Your feet remained planted on the ground beneath. Your arms were held tighter than ever across your torso as you tried to maintain the blankest expression possible.

“Dude, both of you just... just chill out, please.” Jesse tried to insist as he walked up the last few steps, but no one paid any attention to his words, “We can-- We can work this out--”

“You allowed a contamination,” Mr. White began, narrowing his eyes as if in disbelief, “How did you-- Did they not teach you to read, or listen, to instructions in school?”

“My education has nothing to do with this.” you insisted without missing a beat. And regardless of your attempts to keep your composure, it was inevitable that something began slipping into your voice.

You had been up early.

You had been running back and forth to make sure that certain things were sorted for certain people, had to drive all the way to downtown to pick up Jesse and then all the way back up to get here. To work.

And then, while at work, you weren’t even able do your damn job because your other partner, that was supposed to be there at a specific time by contract, just didn’t show up.

Which then lead you and Jesse to have to stand and do absolute jack shit for hours on end.

Walter just shook his head again, even raising his hands like he was about to shove you or something, though he might have wanted to simply point a finger, “Well, apparently it does, because if you still aren’t competent enough to follow something so basic, then--”

“What is going on here?”

Within the next second, the man in front of you had twisted round in a way that almost gave you whiplash just from watching. He stepped to the side, and moved backwards until he was practically next to you. “Oh, Gus, I, uh... We were just... Slow start.”

But, of course, he was still a little ahead.

Your feet, however, hadn’t moved an inch. In fact the only move you made was to let your arms finally fall free to your sides as you stared onwards.

It was Gustavo. He was stood in the doorframe, one hand pressing against the weighted metal so that he had enough time to take in his surroundings. And then he took the final step inside.

It was only when the door closed behind him that you realised you hadn’t even heard it open in the first place.

The lab was back to what it had been minutes ago. Silent. No sound at all filtering throughout the entire room.

Gustavo stilled himself not far from the door he had walked through, but enough so that you could feel his presence as well as see it. His arms were unmoving by his sides, a trait that would’ve carried out through his entire body if he hadn’t started moving his head.

Like Walter had done when he arrived, Gustavo looked at the room below. He studied it, looked from one section to the other while noting the quietness that was effecting even him.

And then he turned back to the people across from him, the expression on his face unwavering, “Why is that? There’s nothing in the machines.”

“You know, ex-- exactly.” the man to your side suddenly spoke up, snapping your attention from the other guy you wanted to look at a little longer. “I had... countless problems with a lot of things this morning, and I wasn’t able to arrive on time.”

Walter sort of took a step forward, but instead of what you would naturally think of when someone carried out such a movement, he didn’t properly face Gustavo.

He stood side on, his body turned towards the machines so he could look at you or his boss with a simple movement of his head. And as of now, you seemed to be his main target. “Apparently they couldn’t be bothered to start the batch themselves.”

“That’s not true.” You mirrored his stance, faced directly towards him, instead of the man who was just trying to seek answers, as your eyebrows furrowed as much as they could.

Walter tilted his head, “You sure?” he asked, using the most condescending voice that would of set you off had you already lost the grasp on your, slowly dissipating, self control.

“Yes, I don’t understand--” Your hand rose to your face, fingers pressing into the skin beneath before dragging down to your chin. And then they dropped. You took in a deep breath. “Look... I admit it, sure, we could have started the cook. But.”

“Me and Jesse both thought it was smarter to wait after the previous mistake,” you began, emphasising your point by gesturing to the dude who was now stood behind, and his eyes sort of widened at the sudden attention.

This time it was you who took the step forward. “But yet again,” You made sure to hold yourself back from blinking as you stared right at the man who was trying so hard not to cut you off, your fists clenched at your sides. “You. Weren’t. Here.”

Your heart was thudding in your ears, a sound louder than any other thing in the room. The exhaustion was rampant through your body, continuously attacking system, and at this point testing your patience that had already become thin.

The ability to control anything was about one minute away from collapsing.

“Why were you late, Mr. White?”

When Gustavo’s voice caught your ears, you hadn’t even bothered to look his way despite the fact that Walter did. In fact, he took the chance to move away from you, which almost made him bump into the other railing.

“Car troubles, and, uh... family stuff, too, you know... all that.” he informed, his voice and the look of his face switching into one that you could instantly tell was the fakest attempt of trying to get sympathy.

“And you didn’t inform anyone of these... troubles?”

Your head turned in about a second, your gaze snapping to the man who hadn’t moved a singular inch since the last time you properly saw him. His attention was only on Walter, his eyes now slightly narrowed.

“What...” Mr. White started, the shock clear within his voice and the expression on his face, “Are you... Are you trying to say that this is my fault?”

“I am not saying anything, Mr. White.” Gustavo’s turned in the mans direction with such slowness that had a look of regret taking over anything else that was threatening to appear on Walters face. And once he stilled, he had even slightly tilted it to the side, “I am simply asking questions to understand why a job hasn’t been completed.”

Walter let out this sort of scoff of a sound as he gestured with his hands like before, “Well, then your asking the wrong person, Gus.”

He pointed towards you, this time not even bothering to look unless it was to make sure his finger was actually aimed in your direction, “They... They have been here for who knows how long, I... I-- I mean, the batch could’ve finished by now, if they just--”

“You are putting the blame... on them?” Gustavo’s voice was low, deep in pitch that it was almost gravelly and harsh to any ears that heard it. There was no direct tone, or emotion clear within it. But paired with the slow step forward, anyone could tell that it wasn’t good.

“You are putting the blame on a person who was actively trying to solve a problem that you created... because you weren’t competent enough to make a phone call?”

You were use to his intimidation tactics. In all honesty, usually, it seemed even more affective when he wasn’t using them, like when he wore that smile that never really reached his eyes.

But this...

This was different.

When Gustavo wanted to intimidate someone, or remind them of their place in the bigger picture. He had relationships to maintain, an act to keep up so that nothing could expose him and/or his business, so he never risked insulting a person in case it would backfire, create unnecessary problems.

Gustavo Fring wasn’t a man who directly insulted someone unless he was going to gain something from it... Well, apparently, until now.

For the next few seconds it seemed that Mr. White couldn’t find the exact reaction he had. His lips twitched almost every way that they could, his mouth would open and close again and again like he was mimicking a fish, all the while his head began to shake once again, “I don’t... I don’t know what to say-- I can’t... Gus, I just--”

“I have heard all I needed.” There were no movements that accompanied his words. No change to his voice a part from a mild show of a tested patience. Gustavo just stared at the man before him, unblinking, “You still have plenty time to cook.”

“You can’t be serious--”

“That’s what you came here to do... Is it not?” Gustavo pointed out simply, his head tilting to the side in a way that almost made him look like a puppy. But his face said all that it needed to.

Walter sort of cowered, avoiding the mans gaze as he took a moment to think, “I... I-- Well... Yes, but--”

In about a second, though there was almost nothing displayed on Gustavo’s face, everything sort of... dropped? His eyelids lowered in a way that wasn’t enough to hide his eyes but it was still visible, his jaw unclenched, his lips almost looked like they were turning down the way.

But again. Not once did he blink.

“Then cook.”

For a solid ten seconds, there was just utter silence. Someone could have drop a pin on the other side of the room, and it would still echo like any other sound. No one moved. No one twitched. No one spoke.

Walter took in a deep breath, his shoulders deflating when it made its way back out. And then he turned, beginning to do just as Gustavo said this time without any argument.

But the moment you started to do to the same thing--

“Not you.”

You froze. Your body hadn’t even managed to twist yet, so after sending a look to Jesse who sent one right back, you simply rocked back on your feet, resuming the same position you were in before.

His eyes were only on yours. The first time he had fully looked at you since he had entered the room.

“We have... other matters to discuss.”

After you left the room, it was practically silent when you began to walk.

There was the usual sounds that occurred from the machines within the laundromat, and the workers who you were still not sure knew about the giant meth lab beneath there feet, but between you and Gustavo there was nothing.

No exchange of words and barely even the sound of your own footsteps.

He was a few steps ahead of you, which may have been one of the main reasons, as he lead you across the paths that had big machines towering over you on each side.

There would be a few moments were you had to duck, or even completely manoeuvre, around certain objects that were hung, either needing to dry or they were connected to a moving system that would bring clothes from one section to another.

You had no idea where you were going. The second the two of you had officially exited the lab, his lips had became sealed. He just started walking, and of course, you only had one response to that.

Your gaze pretty much remained on Gustavo’s back no matter how far you went, only fleeting to make sure that you weren’t going to bump into anything, as you followed the man in front of you like a lost duckling... Though, you felt more like a child getting ready to be told off.

Eventually, after stopping yourself from getting caught up in the thoughts swirling through your mind, you found yourself walking out of the big vertical door. The entrance of the laundromat.

If your heart wasn’t pounding before it sure was now. And no matter how badly you wanted to just focus on the feeling of fresh air after being stuck in an underground room for what felt like, and probably was, about five hours... Gustavo stopped walking.

He was stood at the edge of the paved platform, hands moving to clasp behind his back as he resumed that usual straight posture.

Your steps grew slower the more close you got to standing by his side. You wanted to gage his mood, predict what was about to happen or what he was going to say, which was a bit difficult considering that you could only see the back of his head.

You cleared your throat when you had arrived to the right of him. Your eyes were slightly narrowed, adjusting to the sudden presence of the sun, while you gently leaned back and forth on your feet.

“Sir, I... I’m really sorry about this... Again,” you had begun, but almost immediately your speech planned in your head seemed to have fallen apart.

You turned your head to the side, trying to properly convey your apology through your face more than your words. “I know it doesn’t help the business, but I really, really, don’t know why this keeps happening--”

“Y/n.”

You had already been looking at Gustavo throughout your words. And maybe it was because you were too caught up in your mind, or because originally the man before you had been gazing into the distance with the usual expression that barely gave you anything to work with.

But now he was looking right back at you.

“Yes?” you answered subconsciously in a way that had your mouth snapping shut immediately after realising that you didn’t need to actually do that.

This time, Gustavo’s chin lowered, “I’m not going to scold you, Y/n.” His gaze was the most gentle you had ever seen it, along with sound of his voice. He may have said the words simply, and matter of factly, but his face told you otherwise.

You sort of just stood there for a moment, blinking at him. “You... You’re...” And then your eyebrows furrowed all over again, your body turning so that you faced him directly, “You’re not?”

Gustavo kept looking at you, and finally, since thatsituation with Mr. White, you weren’t presented with an expression of judgement. It wasn’t a look that visibly told that they thought whatever they were seeing was utter stupidity.

He took in a breath, letting his eyes fall back on the busy town ahead for a split second, before they were back on your own, “I want you to go home.”

His voice was lighter, the expression on his face no longer holding the tension that had clung to his skin.

Your lips parted, even if no sound initially came out. You stared back at him for a moment, your eyes a little wider than they were before, almost unblinking, “Did I mess up that badly?”

Gustavo’s eyebrows furrowed so quickly that you hadn’t caught onto it until he turned his body in your direction, “Forgive my phrasing.” he started, his hands remaining behind his back no matter the change of position, “This is not a punishment.”

With his next words, Gustavo made sure that you were looking at him, right into his eyes, just in case his meaning was conveyed through his voice, “You are not in trouble for the wrongdoings of another man.”

... Were you missing something? Why would Gustavo take you out of the lab?

I mean, sure, you made the deduction that not starting the batch might’ve not been such a great idea, and honestly at some point expected to get a good talking too because of it. Maybe it would be the final straw...

But here you were. Theman himself, the big boss, stood right in front of you. Directly telling you that you’re not in trouble.

“Then... I’m going to have to say that I don’t understand, Sir.” The muscles beneath your brows were getting a good work out from consistently changing between being normal and then furrowed within, practically, every thirty seconds, “We still have a batch to do, a deadline to follow.”

Influenced yet again by a man stood before you, “And who is that for?”

Your whole body felt like it wanted to deflate, fall limp and just collapse on the ground. This time it wasn’t in anger, or fear, or annoyance. It was because after everything, you could exhale the nerves that had clung to your insides. There was no use for them now.

You lightly nodded your head, the fact of not being in trouble officially processing in a way that had your gaze lowering, “... You.”

Gustavo wanted to smile. He wanted to display his pride of finally cracking the code that was your mind, having created even a bit of equal understanding, but he could still see the ghost of the previous expression that held your face hostage. The genuine concern over possible harming his business.

And him.

“I am not asking you to leave because I think that you are bad at your job, or that you don’t do anything for this business-- Because that would be entirely wrong.” he started up with this new voice that was difficult to ignore, “I am simply saying that you have the day off.”

“It is... normal in a workplace, is it not?”

By the time your eyes met Gustavo’s, your brows had furrowed once again, though now, it was for a very different reason, “I mean... Yes-- But not in this business, just...”

There was a huff of air that passed through your lips. Theexhaustion from earlier was presenting itself back into your system, making the want to talk become a lot less than before, “Let me-- Let me go back in there, we can work, we can... we can get it done.”

Gustavo’s head began shaking before you had even finished your sentence, “I can’t do that.”

“And why not?” you questioned, leaning back slightly so that you could fully take in his demeaner, analyse any look that took over his face, “I thought you said that I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“You didn’t.” he insisted almost immediately, the expression he wore going blank the way it usually did. But now wasn’t the time. “Then...” You took in yet another breath to cut off your words, trying to suppress the urges to sigh, scoff, or the sudden want to raise your voice, “Why?”

To say this day felt long was truly an understatement. Things just kept happening one after the other and still you were left in the dark. No answer as to why things progressed into the situations they had.

“Y/n, I am not... risking the loss of more time to arguing.” It was like you could visibly see the words he chose to say. The pure caution, decisions careful enough so that he wouldn’t set off the things he could see getting ready in your eyes, “I know that if you go back in there, Mr. White will not... let go. Not unless I place someone in there to stand and watch at all times.”

“All I am telling you is that you are free to go while I... sort things out.” Gustavo somehow made himself stand taller, trying to prove the confidence in which was already heard in his voice and to also prepare for the possibility of you finally reacting in the way that your body had wanted to for hours.

But despite what he had envisioned playing out, or tried to predict, it was pretty much the opposite. In fact, the only proper reaction to his words was your shoulders deflating, ridding your muscles of its constant worry.

And then you crossed your arms over your chest, sniffing as you did so, “And what about Jesse... Mr. White? What-- What about them?” you questioned, waiting for the words to settle before you looked back into those other pair of eyes, only to find that the look from earlier had repossessed his face, “It may not seem like it, but I assure you, Y/n.”

“Mr. Pinkman and Mr. White can handle it themselves.”

For the first time throughout the entire day, you felt the want to smile. “Okay then.” You nodded your head once, your grip tightening on your arms as you took a step backwards, “Thank you, uh... Mr. Fring. It seems you have saved me again.”

“Gus. Call me Gus, and please, there is no need to thank me.” Gustavo started up before you could even try to turn in the direction of your car, “It comes under being an employee.”

Your body stilled after about one more steps backwards, your eyes narrowing at the man before you, playfully, “Then how come I haven’t heard you getting protective when someone else makes a mistake?”

Gustavo mirrored the look on your face, “I wasn’t... I wasn’t being... protective?” In his case, however, he wasn’t doing it in a teasing sort of manner, he was just genuinely confused at the comment. “I simply understood the situation and acted accordingly.”

Your arms loosened in your hold until they lowered to your sides once again, “And yet you defended me.” If you were close enough to Gustavo you would probably have started circling him, “Even though I was in the wrong... both times.”

Gustavo unfurrowed his brows, “You weren’t in the wrong just because some man has an incorrect idea of authority… and a very poor concept of time.” His tone was the flattest you had ever heard it. There was no emotion behind it until the words of... slight insult.

The urge to smile grew stronger that had you pressing your lips together to stop yourself from letting out a laugh. “Still,” Though, after a moment, you managed to compose yourself, “If you hadn’t arrived when you did...”

Gustavo huffed air through his nose, bowing his head a tad before he let it shake a few times. When he looked back up it was clear that he was trying to hold back whatever was wanting to take over his face, but you could see it in his eyes.

“Go home.”

There was this feeling of giddiness begging to erupt in your chest. It spread a warmth to every part of your body until it was a collective feeling. It caught you of guard, causing the smile you were trying to hide begin to curl at your lips.

So, after a sharp breath and a nod as a thanks, you sort of ducked away, twisting yourself around so that you could make your way towards your car.

However, the nearer that you got to the vehicle, it seemed there was a thought pushing itself further and further to the centre of your mind. It may have been more of a feeling, as you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted to go back to your house.

I mean, sure, being able to take a nice long shower, grab a bite to eat, and completely flop on your bed sounded... Well, pretty nice actually.

But the next session for a batch was now going to be days away.

Days from your work and a certain Fring.

You had completely stilled about a step away from your car. There was a quiet breath that huffed through your nose, one that only you could hear, “You know what, actually.”and then you turned on your heel, the concrete practically scuffing under your shoe. “I’ve worked for you for quite some time now, and yet…”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been inside your restaurant.”

The man your eyes managed to focus on seemed to be closer than he was the last time you saw him. A fact that made your brain almost completely miss the words that came out of his mouth. “Well, it’s not an obligation.”

There was something about the look on his face. Something about the way he pressed his lips together immediately after he finished speaking. He may have assured that the visit wasn’t needed, but... there might have still been a want.

“What hours is it open?” you asked, the sound of your voice almost echoing through the parking area, even if the noises from the active laundromat were louder.

Gustavo’s head slightly rose after a moment, one of his brows slightly twitching as he processed your question. And then he cleared his throat, “That would depend on the day.” he informed, readjusting the hands he still held behind his back.

You hummed in response, letting your gaze fall into the distance as you thought.

Honestly, after the past few hours you could barely remember what part of the week you were in right now. So, instead, you thought back to what a usual week would look like.

What was the day that was perfectly set between the times you would possibly be able to see Gustavo at work? Right in the middle?

“How about Thursday?” you suggested, now watching as Gustavo began to make his way across the concrete, slightly nodding his head, “Then... Seven to ten, I believe.”

“All right,” you breathed out, the speed in which your heart beat increased the more the man approached. “One less lunch to plan for the week.” You practically gulped as you reached backwards, fingers patting against the cool metal of the vehicle for a moment until they located the handle.

Gustavo stilled himself about three steps in front of you, the look on his face signalling that he was thinking about something as he wasn’t making direct eye contact, “Actually... I would suggest to come around dinner time.”

Just as you were about to tug on the handle, your hand froze, along with pretty much every other part of your body.

The man was now looking right at you, his voice sort of timid in a way that caught you even more off guard. And apparently himself too. “It’s... more quiet.” He cleared his throat, “Less people around.”

Your arm slowly moved back to your side, releasing the warm handle from any sort of grasp.

There was a fight going on in your chest. A want to give into the urge of running away like you would’ve done in a situation close to this as a kid. But you weren’t a child anymore, far from it.

It took a good moment for any sound to be able to roll off of your tongue. And as soon as something eventually had, it was like your lungs remembered how to properly function. “Will you be there?”

You felt younger. The two of you may have been stood pretty much right in front of the other, yet neither of you could maintain eye contact longer than a few seconds before you collectively had to look away, no matter how confident either one of you tried to seem.

Gustavo cleared his throat, though it sounded like it had barely done anything. “I believe so.” he finally confirmed, and regardless of the fact that his voice was still quiet, there was this tone that took over his words.

“Well, good...” That giddy feeling returned, even if it had probably never left. “I think I probably would still go if you weren’t there, but... it would be a lot less... fun.”

The man before you let the slightest smile curl at a side of his mouth, “Well, we wouldn’t want that now would we?” He sounded more breathy this time, a natural progression from his already quiet voice. But it wasn’t because of nerves, or a reaction of his lungs, which you had initially thought. It was intentional.

“Not at all.” Your voice in question was more full than his, however, there was this slight whisper to it, as if Gustavo should be the only person allowed to hear it.

“Then it’s settled,” he began, slightly lowering his head in away that had your back pressing into your car. His normal tone had seeped back through his words like he was back in boss mode. But not quite Gustavo Fring just yet. “How does... eight o’clock sound? Unless you eat earlier?”

Your head shook practically without a second of hesitance. The ability to move your lips was barely thereso you resorted to moving to the side, finally pulling on the handle of your car door until it swung out far enough that you could stand behind it.

You could see Gustavo raise his eyebrows just the slightest as the door had created a sort of separation, and it had you biting back a grin. “It’s perfect.” you insisted, trying to sound as neutral as possible despite the, possibly, clear ways you felt at that moment.

And then you lowered yourself into the car, having to slightly shifted backwards a little bit to properly get into the drivers seat before you swung your legs inside.

Your hand grasped the inside of your door, your fingers making certain that they had a good grip, before your eyes landed on the figure through the glass of the window that hadn’t moved an inch.

And then you smiled.

“Gus.”

#gustavo fring #gus fring #gustavo fring x reader #breaking bad x reader #breaking bad #brba #gender neutral reader

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eponastory · 7 months ago

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So, I've been debating about posting this because... well it isn't exactly pleasant for me to talk about.

But I've been wanting to share a little bit of why I don't like Aang. I know in the beginning I said I could like him because he was (at the time) a character that I felt was well written.

But then I realized I had the wool pulled over my eyes. And that is because of some trauma from my past I avoided talking about for close to 12 years now. Now that I'm able to address that trauma, I also realize that when that part of my life was going on, the show was also airing.

So let's talk about those two non-consensual kisses from an SA survivor's POV.

Without going into too much detail, throughout my teenage years, I and two other girls were consistently singled out by a group of boys. This is back in the early 00s, so the consensus was to completely ignore SA and SH. So, when a boy casually shoves his arm down your shirt and squeezes your breast, what do you do? Well, going to the people who are supposed to protect you doesn't work because 'boys will be boys' or 'I know his dad and he would never do a thing like that so you must be lying' so no one gets in trouble. It gets ignored. And it wasn't just the breasts. I can't tell you how many times my ass was squeezed on the way to my next class. During recess or lunch, I hid in the girls' bathroom because this went on for years. It was boys in my own class.

But regardless, it was blown off. This really affected me all the way into my adult years, where it still continued with some of my relationships. One of them being so toxic that I almost didn't make it out.

But back to the point...

The framing of Aang kissing Katara, not once, but twice and never bringing it up again... that is what gets me. The first kiss I could see as, yes, they are going into battle and could possibly die before confessing their love. But that doesn't mean that had to happen. It's what happens after that also drives me crazy.

Aang automatically assumes that because he kissed Katara, that meant they were together. This is a 12 year old boy. I get it, but that still doesn't make it right. I've been kissed like that before by one of the boys that thought it was okay. It's not. Actually, most of the time a girls/woman's reaction is to push the offender away.

This is never addressed after EIP either. Katara absolutely refuses, but we are supposed to feel sorry for the offender in that situation. Imagine being someone going through that at the very same time the show is airing... it sets a sour taste in the mouth, doesn't it? It's the same thing as saying 'boys will be boys' or 'that's what boys do' and completely ignoring it or the consequences. This is what happens all the time to women, and if it didn't happen to you, that's wonderful.

Which is why I have a problem with Katara still choosing Aang. More like Bryke made Katara choose Aang. Who assaulted her, but we are supposed to feel bad for him for being an idiot. No, that's not how this works.

People who defend that are not okay in my eyes.

#im not okay because SA is life changing #so someone who thinks its okay to force themselves onto someone else be it kissing or otherwise needs to reevaluate themselves #anti aang #pro katara #pro zutara #antikataang

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merbear25 · 29 days ago

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eek! your halloween event is still open so i was wondering if you can do an abandoned hospital setting with vash my loml in a zombie au?? like i just think zombie apocalypses just... fits vash's vibes??? like idk imagine having each other's backs... in a chaotic world. we would talk about our dreams to find a place to settle and become self sufficient... just that us against the world trope... so many thoughts aaa.. thank you in adv!!

- anon 🐸🌻

p.s. i survived internship and its my bday!! i went out with my friend for a ghibli themed and got some chiikawa plushies (more friends for vash,,) over my birthday weekend hehe. Got sick once i reached home though but i elly had tons of fun!! i hope you've been alright!! im so excited for spooky season too since i may do a ghost photoshoot with a friend later this month. manifesting good vibes your way~

Oh my goodness, thank you so much for requesting something for the event, especially with our lovely boy! And happy birthday!! I'm so glad to hear that things are going well for you. 🥺 Hope you like what I've written. 💜🧡

Even with the world being turned upside down, your relationship with Vash helped keep you grounded. In a reality that was voident of love and peace, he remained their unwavering advocate. His attitude was infectious, feeling as though it alone could be the cure this world needed. It was something worth keeping close, even when you feared it was all for not.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, fluff, romantic, some angst, established relationship, mentions of zombies, death, and survival situations

Us against the world (Vash)

The constellations were one of the only parts of life that remained consistent. Simplistic beauty held in their twinkling lights contrasted the horrors they shined down on. Through the change of the seasons, the possibilities of not only coming across the uninfected but keeping them alive became less and less likely, and yet you and Vash continued to overcome the odds. A dear friend, your other half, your one and only: there was no one better suited to have given your heart to.

A nightly activity of stargazing to just forget about the world you were living in became a form of comfort. Knowing there was still so much beauty out there gave you something other than yourselves to live for.

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to fully enjoy life again?” The somber tone, albeit appropriate, still made Vash frown because he didn’t know the answer.

“I hope so… but I know that there are still things to enjoy, even when everything feels like it’s been taken away.” That gentle flow to his words never ceased to soothe your fears. He took your hand in his, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

Keeping your gaze up towards the stars, the chirps of crickets were your only audience that night, letting that sense of peace wash over you. This rooftop had become one of many to be placed over your heads. Never could there be a place to truly call your own; it would be too risky. With the list of each place left behind getting longer, you still held onto the idea that one day you’d finally be able to find one to call your own.

“I’ve been thinking more about our place,” you whispered. “I was thinking that a place up north by the seaside would be nice.”

“The view would be breathtaking.”

“The air would smell so nice.”

“And the sounds of waves…” He trailed off in a dreamy tone. Closing his eyes, he imagined that place with you. The sea salt air on his skin and the sounds of seagulls overhead. “We’ll get there one day.”

Every part of your reality gave you reason not to hold out hope, but whenever you talked about that special place together, determination to continue working against the odds pushed you further. A shared goal to achieve the seemingly impossible—happiness.

The summer nights filled with the applause of rustling leaves had shifted into an echo of creaking bare autumn branches. Chilly weather kept your routine visits to the roughtop minimal. The rest of the world still played by its own rules which meant surviving in a zombie apocalypse was more than just fighting off the undead. The slightest cut could result in deadly consequences if left untreated, but even still there were some injuries that were unavoidable.

Picking the apples from a nearby tree wasn’t any cause for concern. You and Vash had chosen a farmhouse outside of the city to spend the winter. Although the distance came with a bit more security, you couldn’t risk going out alone—your essential lifeline being tethered to your side.

A scream carried over the trees as you fell from the ladder. Acting on the flip of a dime, he dove to try to catch you, but your cries gave away that he wasn’t fast enough. A broken arm—it could have been worse but wasn’t anything to brush off. He rushed you inside the house, placed you on the couch, and went to search for medical supplies.

The medicine cabinet didn’t have any disinfectant, neither did the drawers. Bandages had run out, leaving him no choice but to dress your wound with a clean cloth. How could I have been so reckless? I should have paid more attention to what we had, what we needed… He cursed at himself silently, not wanting to cause you any further stress.

“I need to make a trip in town.” He stood up after he tended to you. “We don’t have the proper supplies, and if anything were to happen because of that, I–”

“I’ll be fine!” You cut him off. “We can make do with what we have.”

His eyes fell on you, that hopeful look that he cherished so much made his chest tighten at the thought of losing you. “It’s not safe. It could get infected… We’ve even run out of painkillers.”

“I can handle it,” you attempted to lighten the mood.

The solemn smile he gave you made your heart sink. “Even if you can, these are things we can’t go without.” He leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. “It’s still early. Maybe I’ll be back just after nightfall.”

Leaning into his touch, he stroked your cheek with his thumb, enjoying the warmth of your soft skin beneath him. “Be sure to barricade yourself, while I’m gone.”

You nodded. Though you had complete faith in him and his abilities to overcome any obstacle thrown his way, that “what if” still dangled above you.

“Come home, okay?”

“I promise.”

The hours passed long since he rode off on the horse. With the sun still hanging in the sky, there was still a chance he’d return around the time he anticipated, but anything could happen and that was what terrified you.

Streets appearing to be barren, the sounds of horse hooves clicking through them, and the threat of a hoard behind every corner: it’d been a long time since he felt this on edge. There was more at stake this time. Failing to return with supplies wouldn’t just mean leaving your break unattended to but leaving you behind entirely. That wasn’t an option.

Slowly, he managed to sneak past and evade some of them. Passing by the pharmacy that had already been cleared out gave him this sense of doubt that this place would be fitting to wait out winter. As he drew nearer to the hospital, there were more of them spaced out in the front. They hadn’t caught sight of him yet, which gave him a slim time frame to tie up his key to escaping. Petting the horse fondly, he promised it that he wouldn’t be long.

Some spotted him as he entered the premises, while others remained oblivious. Sprinting around the back entrance luckily led to an opening for him. With so many already on his heels, he needed some good fortune now more than anything.

Quick. I can do that. Now wasn’t the time to let his optimistic side falter. This wasn’t the first time he was caught in a sticky situation, and it sure wouldn’t be the last. Rushing down the halls, his feet carried him like a phantom—soft soles of his shoes deafened his steps. Avoiding as many as he could was his best chance at survival. It would be too easy to get swarmed; he’d seen the overwhelming size of their numbers take too many lives.

Skeeting around the corner, he came face to face with a few of them stumbling down the hall, creating a barrier between him and the sought after supplies. Quick motions that were followed by the cracking of skulls and squelches of brains. Although he knew these creatures were absent of humanity and life itself, it never got easier. The blood splattering on the walls and his face were things he hoped would eventually become a distant memory. Until then, he needed to get back to you, needed to protect you, but most of all he wanted to shield you from all of this.

Wishful thinking that left his heart aching at the end, he couldn’t resist his fantasies. Pocketing as much as he could, escaping posed another issue entirely. Those from the back were shuffling their way in, and the front entrance was a risk all on its own. There were too many filing in from where he came, leaving him no other option.

Don’t focus on killing all of them, just get them out of the way. He panted from their numbers closing in. Covering his head he shoved his way past two of them coming up the steps, the velocity of his sprint sent them flying on their open wounded backs.

He couldn’t look back because he wasn’t going to like what he would see. Eyes kept forward, the horse was his main focus. Tying it up far enough to have kept the zombies from catching sight of it was biting him in the ass. Their slow staggers meant nothing if they never got tired. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, the horse needed no direction to take off down the lawn.

Beads of sweat ran down the side of his face and were pressed into his skin from the chilly wind tearing past. Galloping through the streets, he took the long way back home in hopes of steering them clear of the house.

With night falling on the house, you sat at the window on the second floor. Your eyes combed through the trees, so dead set on any sign of him, or worse of unexpected visitors. The clock ticked into the late night, making you dread the worst. Hot tears ran down your cheeks, but you refused to take your attention off of the line of trees at the edge of the property.

Then, there emerged a figure on top of a four legged creature. Your heart felt as if it was going to leap out of your chest. You rushed down to the front porch and waited. The urge to run up and tell him how worried you were had to be suppressed. All the precautions you took in this world extended to every aspect.

As he approached you, he held out the supplies while wearing that boyish smile. “Sorry, I had to take the long way.” Without another thought, you threw yourself into his arms, ignoring any pain that came with it. “Be careful of your arm!”

“I don’t care!” You cried. “Right now holding you is all that I care about.”

His arms wrapped around you tightly, never wanting to let go of you. “I had to come back. We still have to find that place by the sea, remember?”

Your cries were muffled against his chest, but the sadness that accompanied the fear of loss could never overshadow the relief of a returned love.

#halloween event #x reader #trigun #trigun maximum #trigun x reader #trigun x you #vash the stampede #trigun vash #vash trigun #vash the humanoid typhoon #vash x you #vash x reader #trimax #trigun au

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callmearcturus · 1 year ago

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what do you mean by TC is a black box? what does that mean?

/pops gum loudly.

Sure, I've been avoiding this landmine a while lemme shove my foot onto it.

TC doesn't do serious interviews. He barely does press. everything out of him is a soundbite, and that's obviously a very deliberate choice on his part that probably has a few motives behind it. He consciously, actively avoids sharing anything beyond his enthusiasm for cinema and his work.

As someone who clearly has found a Problematic Fave in McQuarrie-era Cruise, I have thought about all that a lot.

One. I think that TC had to work consistently and deliberately to rehab his image after everything, and I think he's damn careful not to endanger the tentative equilibrium he's managed to build over literally about twenty fucking years.

Two. I'm old enough to remember Tom Cruise Crazy era, and one of the things that's... interesting to me with the maturity and hindsight of sitting here in 2023 is that, yes, a lot of TC's actions and associations were concerning back in that period, back when he was in the news. But the world didn't react with concern. The world, broadly speaking, called him a fag and a freak in a way that I hope we wouldn't today. I hope that "hey this huge star is part of a cult and is acting erratically" would cause even superficial concern today and not... what it did back then. Because I def remember songs and memes about that shit, and my family made jokes about him being a lunatic. Classmates talked about him being a closet case. It's what everyone did. I didn't realize that was fucked up for a long time.

I do genuinely wonder what TC's relationship with his audience and with the media would be if there was literally an ounce of compassion in the coverage about him. But we'll never know.

Three. TC has been literally world famous since 1983. Forty years. I....... literally cannot fathom that. What that does to someone. The very idea of it hits me with existential terror.

Four. I don't know anything about his life today. I don't really want to know because I've always been of the opinion that... I don't want to know shit about celebrities major or minor. I don't need to know, and I think it's weird that we accept that people must forfeit their privacy for even minuscule fame.

(The disgusting hounding and harassment of Jonny Sims, writer of The Magnus Archives, comes to mind. This is why I don't follow anyone like Neil Gaiman on Tumblr either, it feels invasive to me personally.)

Like, I know this cuts both ways. I am relieved when a famous person is a cool person. But also I would rather know nothing about them, because that inherent demand that they present their self for scrutiny and entertainment seems like bullshit to me. I don't think any of us are entitled to that. I think the fact so many entertainment industries demand that is repulsive and I wish that was a bell that could be unrung.

Point is: I don't know shit about TC's personal life. My genuine hope is that in this part of his life, as he's surrounded himself with people who seem passionate and supportive, i hope he's found his way out of the turmoil of the CoS (or is in the process of doing so). But while that is my hope, I don't think the details are any of my fucking business. And frankly, I think its obvious that he agrees.

Hence, he is a black box. Which I respect, as I'm a big fan of boundaries.

#Anonymous #yeah this shit isnt rebloggable lmao

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morocosmos · 2 months ago

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Writer Interview Game

Tagged by @arcaneoddity, tyyyy 💜

When did you start writing?

I noodled at an unfinished story or two when i was a kid (i drew comics a lot more tbh), the first fanfic i wrote was when i was 13 (it is consigned to ff.net, never to be perceived again). i started developing my writing during secondary school, we had to for english class but i genuinely enjoyed those assignments so much that it didn't feel like schoolwork lmao, it was smth of an outlet. i did write a couple of fics for other fandoms between 2016 and mid 2020, but in late 2020 FFXIV revived my desire to create, while @stellarfatalism and @lemoncakedesign's fics inspired me to actually start writing.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I read a much wider variety of smut than what i could be convinced to write. other than that i think they mostly overlap.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

@haillenarte, @rabbitprint and @sezja's fics have stuck with me the most in terms of "god i want to be able to write characters like this"....i've never been compared to another writer before, never even considered it and idk how i'd feel.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I was writing on openoffice at first, but their software has a tendency to crash when you press two keys too fast, for example when you. try to save your work. moved to gdocs to avoid that and so that i could continue working on fic on my phone, but i also use the notes app on there, mainly to get down ideas that i don't want running away or to write more freely. it's easier to be experimental and loose when i'm writing in notes, idk, whereas i prefer sitting at the desk and working on my computer when it's a longer fic or a more """important""" piece.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I've let it happen when it happens, for the most part. i was forcing myself to power through job around the time i really grew into writing, so i needed it to be a space where i wouldn't do it if i didn't want to. my feelings about that are more mixed now, because i'm a slow writer to begin with, and i can't help but wonder if more people would read my stuff if i updated more consistently. but i digress - the only time i've had to bring the muse in myself was for to sail your seas, and that was because there was accountability and a deadline. so i guess my most effective tricks are ADHD hacks and brainworms.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Until recently i didn't approach fic writing with themes in mind, when i get an idea it's usually about throwing a character at something and seeing what happens. that something tends to be another character, sometimes it's more existential like touch starvation. that said, i do have a WIP where i sat down and thought about what i want the themes to be before i know how it's going to pan out, but it's baby's first attempt so i don't have an answer to this question yet, really.

What is your reason for writing?

Processing things i know and exploring things i don't. when i got back into writing in 2020 it was extremely cathartic, i've burnt out on several creative pursuits over the years and having that spark come alive was, and is still very precious to me. i spent two years writing simply because i had ideas and a vice-grip compulsion to write them out. now that that's slowed down, i've started to think more about craft, and how i might try to hone that when i'm lowkey afraid of this stage of learning, and there's no formal institution to kick my ass into it. but in some ways, i think i write because i can't afford not to.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I've been told by a friend that i'm good at continuity, which is nice considering it lines up with the obsessive approach i take towards trying to tie plot/character threads together lol. personally, i still consider descriptive writing to be my greatest strength. it's what i keep going back to, maybe because it was the first thing i discovered i was good at that wasn't influenced by someone else's decision.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I miss the honeymoon period when i thought my writing was the hottest shit LOL. that tapered off towards the end of 2022, but it's not like i think my writing is bad now, just that over time i became more aware of my shortcomings, and how much knowledge and experience i lack. i did have to fight a little to keep my relationship with writing from souring last year, but in hindsight it was more about frustration that i didn't have the energy to write (work burnout wooo) than a problem with writing itself. after a year plus of stalling and big fic projects i just want to have fun again, be a bit silly.

#if you were tagged here you're more than welcome to do this too #tag game

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haven-of-dusk · 5 months ago

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After discourse about the topic spawned over there, I posted this analysis on how healthy I believe Ethan/Danny and Aiden/Lydia were as couples on the Teen Wolf subreddit. But looking back over it, I'm honestly happy enough with the analysis that I'm going to copy it wholesale to right here:

With Dethan, what Danny did for Ethan was pretty straightforward, but significantly important for Ethan: he just made him happy. With what we know about the Steiners' past, it's more than likely that the only friend Ethan had with any consistency was Aiden, and much as he loves his brother, Aiden is...himself. Ethan can spend time with Danny and not have to worry about wolf politics, or orders, or look over his shoulder waiting for someone to come looking for revenge or Deucalion to appear and punish him.

As for what Ethan provided for Danny, while we don't get a ton of information on Danny, what we do know is that A. He probably was a bit lonely at the start of S3 considering his 'best friend' left town, B. He never seemed to have a consistent partner up till Ethan, and based on the partners he did have we can guess it was either because those relationships were about sex/intimacy and nothing else, or because there just weren't many options and nobody was the right fit, and C. Danny expressed that finding out about his condition and its effects usually drove people away or made them far too overly cautious for Danny's liking. Using all that, I think it's safe to say that Ethan's consistency and willingness to basically fight to stay with Danny was a big part of why Danny got attached. Ethan wanted to be around Danny just because Danny was himself. Instead of driving him away or making him overly protective, Danny getting sick had basically no effect on Ethan's behavior outside of just reaffirming love.

In short, they worked for each other because they provided the stability they both needed for the other.

With Aidia, what Lydia did for Aiden was...basically calling him out for bad behavior. It'd be reductive to say she became the angel on his shoulder, because it's a bit more complicated than that, but what made the way Lydia helped Aiden grow so effective was that she never tried to force him to change his personality. He didn't need to stop being sassy, or 'cure' his anger, or anything of that sort. What was important was that when the chips were down, she could count on him to do the right thing, and he did prove that, and along the way she helped him finally feel good about himself (likely not a commonality with all the abuse in his past). It is a wonder what positive reinforcement can do.

As for what he did for Lydia, I think it's most important to remember that her boyfriend immediately prior had an extremely toxic relationship with her that ended with verbal and borderline physical abuse, not long after she was basically SA'd on the field by Peter (and then had her mind invaded). So in essence the fact that Aiden was devoted to her, let her take the reins so to speak, and allowed her to dictate her needs from the relationship was a big step up and the type of healthy boundary setting she desperately needed after Jackson doing...the exact opposite of all of that. Whether he was the right forever partner for her or not, Aiden was the exact sort of boyfriend she needed in that moment of her life.

So in essence their relationship worked because they both felt validated and cared for by the other, but Lydia was still able to set a line in the sand and Aiden realized he wanted to stay behind it and change for the better.

With all this I'd be remiss to not mention and address a couple of the major criticisms I've seen directed towards these couplings...

While it is true that they started the relationships because of the Alpha Pack's mission, the way the show depicts that element, the initial deceptive phase lasted about 24 hours at most before they both actually started falling for their 'targets'. Ethan was definitely just dating Danny for its own sake by at the latest Episode 7, and the dialogue a little later on even confirms that Ethan was attached to Danny despite the Alpha Pack no longer having any need of him. The switch in Aiden's mind is a little harder to pinpoint, but at the absolute latest it was by the 3A finale when he was ready to fight Kali to protect Lydia. So just on the whole I don't think it's fair to say their relationships were 'built on lies' when their feelings turned genuine so quickly.

The other one I've seen is speculation that Ethan and Aiden are child predators/adults dating children/are no better than Kate. But really the oldest the Steiners could be in my opinion is 19, and are probably younger than that given how easily they pass as teenagers. The most information we get about their age is that they 'never finished high school' which could mean anything from dropped out the previous year and are, in fact, still the same age as their peers, to dropped out several years ago and are now somehow 25 year olds able to masquerade as teenagers. And honestly, with how easily they slip into the high school life, I don't think the latter is plausible. I don't really have a 'gotcha' piece of evidence for this argument, but I just find it hard to believe that two adults could enter the school system and blend in easily and no one, anywhere in the show, mentions that they aren't actual teenagers.

To be honest, use of that last argument feels like attempts to manipulate some of the show's vague lines to discredit the pairings, since there just isn't much to scrutinize otherwise.

And to be clear, none of this is saying you have to like these pairings, but it is always important to recognize the difference between not liking a couple and declaring that couple unhealthy.

#ethan steiner #aiden steiner #dethan #aidia #lydia martin #danny mahealani #I guess we can consider this part of my campaign to get the Steiners the recognition and love they deserve #and also more proof that danny and ethan deserved better (individually and as a couple)#teen wolf

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seiwas · 3 months ago

Note

hi sel! i was wondering if you had any tips or tricks or advice for making fic banners and dividers? yours are always so cohesive! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

hi nonie! omg i'm so flattered you asked me this 🥺 i’m happy you like them!! admittedly, i am a bit particular about the aesthetics of my fics, but don't really expect anyone to notice 😭

i am by no means a designer! but i'll share a few of the things that have worked for me 🥺 under the cut will be what i do for sizing, editing, and inspo!

SIZING (w x h dimensions, 300 dpi)

› banners: 1280 x 320 for my thicker banners. 1280 x 249 for my thinner ones. i've been preferring the thicker ones lately just because i prefer how it looks on the post compared to my thinner ones (more balanced and stuff!)

› dividers: 1280 x any size you want or 500 x 5. i have both jpg (thinner) and png (thicker) versions for my dividers, mainly because my jpg ones stopped working after a while* 😭 i use the png ones more now because the actual image itself is also bigger in height; there are transparent spaces above the bar itself that allow more control over the space your divider will have between text (please let me know if this is confusing! i'm not sure if i'm explaining it well).

*tumblr can be really selective with the media it allows on the feed and tags, and for some reason, some dividers have been causing that problem 😭 i still haven't figured out what characteristics/factors exactly cause it, but i suspect it might be a combination of size + colours. i usually have to do test posts to make sure it appears!

i'm attaching some screenshots below for reference!

EDITING

› software: photoshop, figma. though i know there are others you can use (e.g., photopea, canva, picsart, etc.)! i just use these because i'm more accustomed to them 🥹

› process:

find a manga panel i like and clean it up (background removers can usually do the trick)

find colours i like and use it as the base for the background

*if using photoshop/figma/photopea: set the manga panel layer as 'multiply'

add the text

*for dividers: i usually just grab from the background of the banner (either i crop a portion of it or colour a long, thin rectangle the same colour)

attaching what my editing board looks like on figma! (i could be more organised but i usually do these things in such a rush i could never be bothered 😭)

› things i consider

for general fic banners: i like to keep a consistent format, which is: character panel + name + identifiable colour because they're the details that i'd like to inform people of first when they stumble upon my post! (some people will put fic titles too, which i don't do bc i can't be bothered to mess with the spacing 😭)

*keeping a consistent format also makes it easier to duplicate elements of your banners into other banners you'll be making! ex. if i'm writing 2 different gojo fics and decide to change what manga panel to use, at least i can always duplicate certain elements (i.e., name text) and find colours along a similar saturation/hue! it makes things a lot quicker and easier.

for event fic banners: i usually pattern it after the event banner itself! so for example, the fics under my 'how to be your loverboy' collab share similar elements (i.e., the wavy edge) to the main event banner. sometimes i use the same colours too (i.e., in's and out's event).

*on dividers not showing up on the dash: i notice it a lot more with light-coloured banners (some neutrals) and super thin ones. to find a way around this, i either change the colour and/or the size OR i'll find a photo that shares the colours i want and crop it to the size that i want (for some reason, it works this way 😭)

INSPO

i usually browse through pinterest for inspo on digital design stuff! i learned a bit of UX/UI so there's also a part of me that's influenced by its trends.

lately, i've been really into gradients! because it's a fun and easy way to make things look clean but not boring, and i think it can evoke the ~vibe of the fic based off the colours you end up choosing!

when i can't think of anything and want to come up with the banner quickly, i'll usually choose a photo/aesthetic i associate with the fic and blur the image until all you see are kind of blobs of colours. they're similar to gradients but have more shapes and require less of your brain power 😭 (i.e., by your passenger seat, and there's something...)

... and that's it!

sorry for this really lengthy post, i hope it's helpful nonie 🥹 let me know if you have any other questions/if anything is unclear!

#sorry it took me a while to answer!! i was gathering what to say 🥹#i hope this was helpful!#ask #rep #anon #reference

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cthrnschumacher · 1 year ago

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I'm Yours - Ch.4 Teenage Dream

Toto's POV

I hear the door open and soon shut as I pack my things. I take a minute to assess my day before going to her immediately. I have never been around anyone who makes me feel or act in such a way. It is not that she is driving me literally insane, but all I can imagine is her taking everything I can give her. That can be up for interpretation for most people, but I mean it emotionally, financially, and mostly physically. This isn't to say that she is someone who is lost and needs a solid figure in their life to help them. But I want to be there for her to release the built-up pressure inside her. I've been making mental notes the entire day on her reactions towards what I do, the consistent blushes (which is fucking adorable), over-apologizing, always working and keeping busy and, most importantly, self-doubting her abilities or things she rightfully earns. She has had a strict upbringing because I exude the same traits, except I'm now established and want to help her. She needs a dominant hand to help her become the person I know she can be. She is a good girl. Hopefully, my good girl and I will do anything to build her up and be more powerful.

Shaking off this inner monologue, I turn to exit the hall and out of the building. I see her in the distance, just admiring the skyline; the shade of orange is beautifully falling on her, and the city, and seeing her brings a smile to my face. Walking towards her, "Ready to get dinner? You can put your things in the trunk of my car while I drive to the place?" This is still surreal for her since she stumbles over her words, "Uhhhh..... sure ...... l-lead the way!" We walked silently as I led the way to the parking garage. I had to slow down my pace so she could walk close by to me and allow her to just slow down for a bit since I knew her day must have been busy, but I glanced towards her. She is on her phone again, typing away on her notes app. I decided to comment on it since I noticed it all day, and I know she isn't doing it intentionally. However, she can't stay in the moment or still. "You are such a busy person. Do you ever get a chance to just stop and relax?" She saves the notes and looks up at me, a little embarrassed, but responds nonchalantly, "Not really, but I like being busy. It fills a void, you know." It makes my heart ache to hear her say that, especially with such poise. Being busy fills a void; this poor girl never gets to have time for herself.

No wonder she is constantly moving, and it's at an alarmingly rapid pace. She doesn't give herself a break; she must be burnt out. I've decided that when she comes to Brackely, she will be close to me, and I will bring her to races to relax. I retort back, since I am confident it needs to be taught, "Y/N, when you start your fellowship, your first lesson is the art of boundaries because you clearly need to learn some." I smirk at her with this comment. I intended for her to know that boundaries are in all aspects of our lives, and she needs to allow me to teach that to her. Pulling me from this thought, "Boundaries have been nonexistent in my life, and I'm always willing to learn new things, so why not." I am at peace that she agrees and senses that this is an actual learning opportunity to build a helpful habit and that she is willing to let me help her.

We headed into the building, repeating the actions I had done earlier, and started leading the way to my car again. She followed closely until I reached the car and popped open the trunk. I place my shoulder bag in the trunk and turn to help her take off her backpack and place it in the trunk. What surprised me was the weight of her bag. It was heavy; no wonder she fell backwards when I bumped into her, "How do you carry such a heavy thing on your back? This must hurt." I am genuinely astonished at the amount of things she goes through. She giggles and tells me it is part of the workout routine, and the comment makes me shake my head; at least she is being humourous about it. I press the button for the trunk to close and try to back her up until she is leaning against the trunk. She turns red from my actions, curious about what I will do and how close I am to her, and she bites her lower lip. I just look her deep in the eyes; I want to do so much but don't know where to begin. I caress her cheek, then switch the positioning of my hand so her cheek is in my palm, and my thumb is swiping her bottom lip; I want to be the only one that tugs at that lip, but to make light of the situation while keeping it intimate, "Ohh... Liebling, you should bite your lip; we will eat soon. You don't want to waste your appetite." But I still swipe my thumb across her trembling lip. I pull away now, lead her to the passenger side, and get her safely in the car as I go to the driver's side and take us to the restaurant.

We both make light conversation during the car ride to the restaurant; I allow her to pick a music station so the car isn't dead silent; it is astonishing how comfortable she is with silence. She is used to solitude because of school and work, so silence is more efficient. She found a station she likes since I can see her bopping her head to the song on the radio. This gives me some peace, and before I even know it, I am pulling up to the place. I hope she really likes it. I never intended to make this evening a date, but I hope she sees I am not just some hotshot Team Principal on the grid; I care for those I work around and try to know everything about them. It's the least I can do when everyone around me makes the same effort to succeed. I pull into the parking lot and park the furthest away. Getting out first, I make my way around to open Y/N's door to let her out; she smiles and thanks me as I shut the door behind her. I sense this is still awkward, but I wonder if she has ever been on a date or been treated like this. Maybe that's why she is nervous; no guy has ever done this. Well, at least I get to set the standards high.

We walk into the restaurant. I give the maître d' my name, and we are immediately seated by the window overlooking the city skyline; she admires the view, and I can only admire her. The menus are set in front of us, and I glance up at her just not to startle her. "Is it alright if I order for the both of us? There are a few things I think you'll like?" "uhhh, Sure, I'm not that picky when it comes to food. All I ask is you not poison me, haha." Her sense of humour is too cute. "No, no, no, don't worry, that will be for another time," I joke back, and she smiles, "Did you also want to have a glass of wine, just so I can get a bottle?" I can see she is a little hesitant; she is thinking, I hope I didn't make her recollect a horrible memory. Maybe I'll repeat, "You don't have to have a glass. It's okay. I’m just offering." "No, no, no, it's fine; I was just thinking I have a light day tomorrow, so one glass won't hurt." That was a bit of a relief; I really didn't want to pressure her into anything.

The waiter returned, and I placed the entire order for both of us, from start to finish, including our wine order. The people here know I like minimal interruptions since I spend most of my time answering emails on my phone. Once he leaves us, she happens to be looking out the window; she seems more relaxed and winding down. I can tell she puts up a front when interacting with faculty and students, a professional one which is appropriate for her situation, but it takes a toll on her. She has one with me right now, but I don't take any offence; she is still shy, and I can only do my best to be less intimidating. As the starters come, she initiates the conversation; her way of recharging is quiet. That's good to note, "What made you want to guest lecture? I know this isn't your first time doing so, but what inspiration are you hoping the audience gets from your content?" She understands that we are in a more intimate setting. It's an excellent question on the passion behind teaching and what brought this opportunity about. She starts picking at the blue cheese salad, which she likes. I would have considered her interested in blue cheese, but she seems satisfied with it or just picking at it. "Well.... the Professor of your course is interested in equity, diversity and inclusion within certain fields. Now, the area of sports is highly different; he saw the transition happening in typical North American Sports, which is a classic route to research. However, there is little discussion on European sports, which consist of cricket, football - your version of soccer, and specifically motorsports. I assume he is a team fan and keeps up the initiatives that Mercedes has been announcing, which is why he brought me to guest lecture a few times ...... As for the interest in speaking to students, I don't see it as 'lecturing to you'....... but rather as a means of a conversation and wanting your inquiry on improving inclusion and equality efforts within the industry. As someone living, breathing and always thinking about Mercedes and F1, you don't see the outsider's perspective. It helps to have younger minds who are more creative to help assess if your actions are truly right or wrong, and when they are, the best part is looking for a creative solution." It was an honest answer, and the best part was seeing how these young minds view the world I live in and how to improve it for others to come and enjoy my passion. I take the chance to start eating the salad; she has eaten about one-fourth of it; she takes the time to absorb what I say but to get some food into her system as well.

Once I'd had a few bites, I asked her, "What brought you to the world of F1?" Midway through chewing and swallowing her bite, she choked a little and started to blush heavily; concerned for her, I brought the glass of water close by so she could have a sip after her little fit and took it appreciatively. After regaining her composure, she still had a rosy colour to her cheeks. I smirked, waiting to hear her answer; it must be ironic if it made her choke slightly on her food. "Would you hate me if I said it was through watching DTS?" She looked up at me shyly, waiting to see if I would be offended; I wasn't. That was the show's purpose: to broaden the audience of those interested in the sport. But I could tell she wasn't telling me the truth, "Which part of DTS interested you?" "Well, the first time I saw the show was Gasley’s episode, and him winning his first podium at Monza. It was a heartfelt episode, especially when they showed how dangerous the sport can get......But before I even decided to watch the show, I did some research on the sport and the remebered that it wasn't the first time I've heard about, but the name Schumacher rang a bell and I used to hear about the sport all the time through a friend who enjoyed the sport..... I got older, and it wasn't until recently I got back into it and watched DTS in full from a year ago and started watching FPs, quali’s and the races..... But I guess it was the Mercedes epsiodes that put it over the edge... your zeal is quite compelling compared to the other Team Principals," She giggles slightly before continuing again, ".... Well, it was you and Steiner. Still, Steiner is in his own catergory because he is just straight up hilarious to watch."

I chuckle at her comment, I can see her interest stems from me, but she won't let on much more; I can tell she is a tad embarrassed if I get the honest response out of her, but the Steiner part is hilarious, when I see him again, I have to tell him that my research fellow thinks he's a joke, he will be pissed in jokingly manner, but he also knows it. The waiter comes to take your starters and place our main. I ordered the Aglio olio peperoncino e gamberi, pasta with seafood. It was light on the stomach but hardy as well. As they set the dishes down, I can't help but see Y/N light up. She must love pasta and/or seafood. I am pleased with my choice; she is right to say she is not picky, but I want to get to know her taste.

Seeing her eyes light up like that makes me feel warm; it's the idea of pleasing and making her happy. I just want to witness it repeatedly. As the waiters left, she started eating; I was glad to see her appetite back; we ate for a while in silence; only now did the gravity of my hunger hit my stomach. I try not to make it out like a vulture who hasn't eaten in days, but my last meal was breakfast and coffee with a pastry; real food feels good in my system. I look up and see she pauses to take a sip from her glass of wine; I can tell she is pacing herself, not wanting to rush. I take this moment as a breather to swallow what I was chewing on, swipe my mouth slightly and sip from the wine. She comments, "Your judgement on food is quite delicious; thank you for the dinner." I smile; I don't want to shy away from her compliment; she is enjoying herself, even after all the teasing I put her through, and the fact she values her time with me is an added bonus, which provides me with a sense of relief on an entire day. "Well, I am happy you agreed to join me for dinner; you are an amazing company with amazing food."

I say this, taking hold of my glass of wine and sipping from it again, ready to finish my plate; she takes a sip and does the same. I demolished my plate of food in no time. Y/N has a little left, but I think she can only eat a little more, judging by how she placed her fork and knife on the plate. I signal for the waiter to get the check ready. I look back at Y/N, and she informs me that she is excusing herself to the washroom, and I nod, needing no further explanation. She went to the restroom, and the waiter brought the bill right over and handed me the machine. I gave a generous tip, as I always do, tapped my card, and he handed me the receipt. I get up from my seat and use the restroom, taking this opportunity to freshen up.

I want to drive her home and make sure she gets home safe, and it's pretty late; I wouldn't want her to take transit home at this hour, especially since her day was long. I return and wait at the table again, but she notices me and turns around. "Ready to go?" "There is more to this evening?" I smirked at her response; she didn't want our time to end, which reassured me of my decision to drive her home. "No, I was going to drive you home; you must be tired, and public transit must take forever this late at night." "Ohh, you don't have it. It's not a problem...." "Please, I insist, Schatzi. Plus, I get to spend a bit more time with you." She blushes at the nickname; it was reflexive to say, but she nods to let me take her home.

We walk out of the restaurant together, her hand slightly brushes against mine; I'm happy that I parked quite a bit away, and I take the chance to hold her hand. She looked down at the gesture and blushed. It was intimate, but I didn't expect her to lean into me a bit; it made me gush inside that she was reacting this way. By all means, she doesn't come off as clingy, but I can tell she likes physical affection. We get to the car, and I open the door for her; she slips in, and I shut the door and rush to the driver's side. I turn on the car and allow her to put her address into the GPS system. The drive is 30 minutes; I see it in a little bit of disbelief. That time is double if she is commuting; how she does that daily is beyond me. Once the car GPS is set up, I exit the place and follow the directions. It is relatively quiet this time of night; it's only really 11pm, and there isn't much traffic either.

I feel more relaxed driving with one hand and resting my arm in the center. I glance slightly at Y/N, and she is eyeing my hand. I keep my eyes focused on the road, but I can't tell if she is uncomfortable with me driving like this. Still, I hear her say, "Can I hold your hand again? I know that's weird to ask, but I liked that....." I briefly turn my head towards her and back to the road to see her shy face inquire on the request, "Yes, of course, I would love that." She places her small hand in mine, delicately intertwining our fingers. She is slightly cold, but not so much that is concerning, but it feels nice in my larger, calloused hands. We continue driving in silence; every now and then, I glance at her to see if she is okay and to look at our hands together; she just makes me feel nice. We are about 10 minutes from her house and making a turn to be on her street soon until I hear her speak up. "I know the GPS is telling you to make a right, but don't do that yet. Head straight until you see an empty parking lot, turn into it, and park the car. I want to spend a bit more time before going home." I stutter a bit; the request is something I will not refuse. "Of... of course."

I follow her directions to the parking lot and turn into a random spot, not caring about the parking. Her focus is still on our hands intertwined, and I study her face. She doesn't want the night to end; she relishes being around me. I hook my finger onto her chin so she can look up at me. Doing so, I can see this intensity in her eyes, almost like a bit of pain that the night will end. I speak up to break the silence, "I really loved spending most of today with you, you know that...." "Really? You did?" "Ya... I, too, don't want our time to end..." I say this and slip my hand from her chin to her cheek. Her eyes flutter shut, and she leans her head into my hand, allowing me to caress her more; I adore her like this. It has me weak. Her voice is strained and soft. "I don't want it to end too...." Fuck it, I'm kissing her. This knife-edging of teasing has gone long enough today. I pull her face towards me and crash my lips onto hers. Her lips are soft and plush and feel incredible against mine; the kiss is feverish, and our lips move in sync. I take this opportunity to let go of her hand and use both my hands to caress her face and tip her head back, trying to deepen the kiss. Her small hands were on my biceps, steading herself and accepting my little gesture, her slightly gasping, giving me a chance for my tongue to enter her mouth. We fight until she seizes my dominance; I feel her slightly pull away and realize we have been kissing for a while and need air. I pull away and see her breathing heavily, and I'm doing the same; she looks at me, and all I can hear is the unbuckling of the seat belt and a mutter of "fuck it." Confused, I glance up at her, coming over to the central console and straddling my lap; I didn't imagine this ever happening in a million years, but I push the seat back more for her to fit. She has both her legs on either side of me; she fits perfectly on my lap, her back in a slight arch, wanting to be closer; it’s her turn to grab my face with her tiny hands and kiss me. She is soft and gentle at first, but after I place my hands on her hips and squeeze slightly, she gasps, and I take the chance for my tongue to enter her mouth again. We both fight longer this time, but wanting to hear that gasp again, I switch things up and bite her bottom lip. I can't resist it much longer, and she gasps again; it's music to my ears, making her arch further into me. I keep doing that, kissing and sucking on her bottom lip, it's like a drug to me, but it elicits her to further press into me.

I feel her pull back again; I take the chance to look at her bottom lip. It's bruised, but I love that I did that to her. Reflexively, my hands move from her hips and run my hands up and down her outer thighs. We both sit still, trying to catch our breath. "Toto..... th... that... was" "heavenily." I was indeed on cloud nine. I could kiss her all day on my lap if I could. I am still running my hands up and down her thighs, her arms wrapped around my neck; I look down at her, getting lost in her beautiful brown eyes, my voice soft but knowing this night has to end.

"I must get you home now, its late..." She nods, knowing that for sure now, the night must end. We stay silent for a bit longer; I suggest, "You can text or call me and I will always answer you back, schatzi." "I can??" My heart aches now to be away from her; I cup her face and kiss her forehead. "Yes, I can't stay away from you." I feel her smile, and she hums in approval of the comment. I run my hands up to her hips again to lift her gently off my lap and to help her in the passenger seat. She buckles her seat belt, and I give her many hands to hold. She instantly intertwines her hand in mine; I gently squeeze her, and she looks up at me and smiles. I hope she knows how much she makes me insane, literally wrapping around her little finger, but I will tell her that another day.

I start up the car and follow the GPS to her home. I park a few houses down, get out of the vehicle, and make my way to open hers. I hold her hand and walk towards the trunk to retrieve her backpack. Pressing the button to close the trunk, I place her bag on top. I cup her face, lean down and kiss her one last time. Her small hands instantly reach for my biceps, needing something to hold one. I tug at her bottom lip a few times, not wanting to forget how it feels and pull away. She looks at me warmly; it aches that I must leave her, "Text me when you get back to the hotel, ya.... I want to make sure you get back safe." She makes me smile; she says the darns of things, but it's sweet that she cares for me, "I will, now walk on home, okay? I want to ensure you get in, okay, flicker the lights when you do, okay?" "Okay.... bye, Toto, and again, thank you. Today was memorable." She grabs her bag and walks towards her house. I see her enter and notice the lights turn on above the garage. It flickers, telling me she is safe

I get in my car and drive back to the hotel. It wouldn't be a long car ride since the roads were empty at this hour. I can't help but brush my fingertips lightly over my lips. They are slightly puffed from the kissing, but it makes me blush. Her lips were perfect on mine, in sync with me, and hearing her gasp was music to my ears. I need to hear more of her; that's all I can think about, wanting more of her around me. She even surprised me by straddling me in the car; it took everything in me not to move my hands lower to grab her ass and grind on her, and even how she was gripping my biceps to keep her steady made me hotter. I can feel my chinos getting uncomfortably tighter, the urge to fuck her, hear her gasp, and moan my name. I want those pretty lips to moan for me; that is all I'm thinking about. I pull into the hotel's underground parking, gladdened that these elevators can lead straight to the floor I'm on, so I don't need to cover my situation up too much but fuck, Y/N has me achingly hard. I open the door to my room and shut it behind me; I walk towards the couch, pull out my phone, find Y/N's contact, and text her.

I just got to the hotel.

Gute Nacht und süße Träume, mein Lieber

Clicking send and placing the phone on the desk, I strip off my clothes; maybe a cold shower will help relieve some of my aches. I hop in the shower and lather my body quickly as the cold water refreshes and awakens. I turn off the tap and wrap a towel around my waist. I head to the sink to brush my teeth, and the sight of my puff lips only makes me hard again. Now, it's not that they were overly puffed; it's just slightly pink from our action, but it ignited the many things I just wanted to do to her. Taking no shame for the thoughts this time, I finish brushing my teeth and exit the washroom. Getting close to the bed, I unwrap the towel from my waist, taking the time to dry my legs, up my thighs, ghost over my ranging hard-on, then my abdomen up to my chest and drying both my arms after then placing the towel to my hair and drying it. I know it's wrong to need to alleviate myself from the thought of fucking her, but I can no longer help it.

I climb into the bed, still naked and run my hand down my abs until I reach my cock; I gently brush my fingertips on the length of it, imagining it was Y/N, her ghost-like touches on me. I do this a few times until I feel the precum dripping down my cock. Fuck I'm a leaking mess, but I encourage my actions; I smear the precum from the tip of my cock over the entire length lubing it up. I imagine I'm running my cock through her pussy lips, feeling her slick and how wet she is for me, probably dripping in anticipation. I make sure my cock is covered in my precum before making a tight fist around my cock and sliding down slowly, just imagining her tight pussy engulfing my length, feeling her clench around me until I bottom out in her. I do this a few times and start picking up the pace. Moving my hand up and down my cock faster, thinking it was her bouncing on my cock, to feel her clench around me, and I start thrusting into her more quickly. I am getting close; in the subspace that I'm in, I can barely recognize that I'm moaning her name, asking her to cum with me. I feel my grip tightening around my cock, wishing it was her walls clenching around me as she cums on my cock, that thought sends me over the edge, her cumming on my cock, and I groan at the spurts of cum land on my lower abs, I don't stop jerking my hand up and down, I imagine her riding it out until her walls don't flutter. How much I could give to make her cum, to feel her pussy on my cock, to feel her warm walls around my length. I lazy jerk to that idea, and I look down, and I'm still hard, fuck if this is the idea of her, I can't imagine what it would be like fucking her or Y/N underneath me. I'm at the point where my imagination runs wild, and I can't help but think of fucking her in the car. Hoping this is the last time I cum to sleep peacefully, I scoop up the cum from my abs and lube my cock on last time, her warm walls being the only thing I can think about, thrusting into her slowly, making sure she can feel my entire length, fuck I can feel that I'm leaking and imagine her pussy just gushing being filled, seeing her eyes roll in pleasure. I jerk my hand faster up and down my cock squeezing tight, wanting it to be her pussy, running it tight over the tip, imagining it brushing her clit and slipping inside her until she cums. That sends me over the edge, the cum shot being more powerful this time around. I let go of my slick cock, satisfied and relieved from the pressure. I finally slip under the bed's covers and let the sleep wash over me, Y/N still on my mind in the haze.

#f1 #formula 1 #toto wolff #daddy toto #kissing #aching #relief #toto wolff smut

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